My Soul To Keep
by WishfulThinker66
Summary: For the sake of his family, Rick Grimes agrees to take refuge in an enclosed community called Alexandria. Despite his misgivings, he finds comfort in the arms of another survivor who chips away at his hardened heart and fills the cracks in his fractured soul. Rated M for language and lots of good old romantic smut. Consider yourself warned… and enjoy. Rick/OC
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **Greetings! This is my second story in the amazing world of The Walking Dead. I just can't stay away from Rick – do you blame me?! This one begins when our sexy sheriff leads the gang to Alexandria in season five. Reviews are extremely appreciated so please let me know what you think – the good, the bad, but the not so ugly.**

 _Disclaimer: I wish I owned The Walking Dead but sadly, I do not._

* * *

Rick Grimes squeezes his son's shoulder reassuringly and shifts his daughter against his hip as they make their way up to the clinic. The light grey house neatly trimmed with white sits on a corner lot and features its own spacious covered porch like most of the houses on the block. The only difference with this structure is the octagonal shaped sign nailed to the porch fencing with the word 'clinic' spray painted in bold capitals.

Stepping onto the porch he looks down at the back of the sign through the fence posts to read 'stop' in standard white lettering on a warning red background. He can't help but wonder to himself if he should obey the sign for the instruction it had originally been designed to impose. If Carl hadn't been feeling so awful the last two days, he would have stopped Aaron from convincing the others to come to this little community. He'd learned time and again and at the cost of dear friends that you couldn't trust anyone that walked the earth these days, dead or alive. After two years of living on the road, a tiny scrap of hope still pulses in his heart but it is buried so deep and barely beating that he doesn't even recognize it anymore.

Though the fifteen foot fences look secure enough to keep the walkers out, he doesn't trust that danger isn't lurking inside the walls as well. But for now, for the sake of his son, he crosses the porch and opens the front door of the Alexandria clinic.

* * *

Kate Harrison pulls her long dark hair into a messy bun and opens the window overlooking the small backyard to get some air circulating in the room where they store the medical supplies. Though it has the prettiest view of the small lake that stretches between the backyards of all the houses on this block, the heat seems to collect in this upstairs bedroom more than any other room in the house, and today it is sweltering.

She pulls two more boxes of band aids from the crate sitting on the single twin bed and looks up when she hears the front door open on the first floor. Eric had told her about the big group they had found and she expects it to be their leader.

Stepping out of the bedroom she hears a deep 'Hello' echo through the house and she proceeds down the stairs to greet her visitor.

When she reaches the landing midway down, she sees a burly, dark haired man with fairly long hair and a very thick beard heavily threaded with gray standing just inside the front door. If not for the teenage boy at his side and the baby girl held dearly to his chest in his muscular arms, she would probably be terrified of the man. Though the children soften his appearance tremendously, the tightly coiled energy emanating from his body is hard to ignore.

"Can I help you?" she asks, slightly apprehensive as she descends the last section of stairs.

When the man looks at her, his light blue eyes do even more to detract from his menacing appearance. They are eyes that look like they have seen way too much and slept way too little in a cold cruel world, yet she sees a warmth inside his soul that fights the shards of ice that he is forced to battle every single day. And on closer inspection, he's actually more lean than burly; the long beard covering the lower half of his face and neck falsely giving the impression of a brawny mountain man.

"My son is sick. Can you look at him?" the man asks in a deep southern voice.

"Sure. Peter's our actual doctor but he's over at the Miller's checking their boy's broken wrist. I'm only a paramedic but I'd be happy to do what I can."

"Thanks."

"I'm Kate," she says over her shoulder as she leads them into the main room that would have been a large living room in another lifetime. Instead of a couch and loveseat surrounding a decorative coffee table in front of the fireplace, two beds are flanked by metal racks containing first aid equipment and surgical supplies. The small kitchen to the left holds jars of tongue depressors and cotton swabs instead of condiments and jams.

"Rick," the man says by way of introduction. "This is my son Carl and my daughter Judith."

"It's very nice to meet you," she says smiling as she holds an index finger up to the little girl who grabs the digit and pulls it into her drooling mouth. "Aren't you precious?" Kate caresses the baby's soft scalp with her free hand as four sharp little teeth dig into her finger. "Ouch. And you are teething pretty badly, aren't you, poor little one?"

"She's had a slight fever too for the past couple of days. I don't know if it's from the teething or the same thing that's gotten a hold of Carl."

Kate feels the baby's forehead and neck which are slightly warm but her eyes are clear and she seems to be breathing with no trouble. The constant drip of drool down her chin and the redness on her cheeks makes her believe she is only suffering through the uncomfortable stage of cutting new teeth. "I'm sure she's just teething. Let's take a look at you, Carl." She carefully extracts her finger from the baby's mouth and turns toward the boy. "Climb up on the bed for me, honey."

Carl sluggishly settles on top of the red and tan plaid spread of the hospital bed in the center of the room, brightly lit from the sun streaming through the many large windows of the infirmary. His eyes are downcast in his pale young face and he looks absolutely miserable.

"You, unfortunately, are not teething," Kate says in commiserated sympathy as she pats the boy's knee. "Let's get your temperature." She reaches for the digital ear thermometer and asks, "When did the fever start?"

"Two days ago. He was a little sluggish for a few days before that but the fever didn't come right away. I'm assuming it's just a bacterial infection he picked up somewhere," Rick replies, twisting his hips smoothly as Judith burrows into his neck.

"Most likely. Could've gotten it from contaminated food or water. We'll give him some antibiotics. Is he allergic to penicillin?" she asks as she reads 103.6 on the thermometer.

"No, he's not."

"Okay. Open your mouth for me, sweetheart." Kate shines a small flashlight into the young man's mouth, finding slightly swollen tonsils but no white patches that would hint at strep. "Any rashes anywhere?"

"No, nothing."

"I think he'll be fine after a couple of days on the antibiotic, but if he's not, just bring him back and Peter can do a more comprehensive exam."

"If we're still here," Rick replies matter-of-factly.

"You'll be here," she responds with a light smirk as she nods her head. "There's no reason not to be, Rick."

"We'll see," he says as he paces in front of a window, looking outside for anything suspicious.

"Look, I'm not saying you have to let your guard down…," she begins before he cuts her off.

"Good, because I won't be letting it down anytime soon."

"But it is nice not to have to hold it so high all the time," she says gently, boring her heart into the depths of his eyes. "It gets very heavy and it can crush you if you're not careful. Listen, I've been here for three weeks and my guard is a lot lower than it had been, but no, I don't think it'll ever be completely down again… but it is an incredible relief just to breathe."

She watches him study her face as her words sink in. The intensity of his gaze should make her uncomfortable but she focuses on the warmth in his eyes and she holds her ground.

"How did you get here?" he asks after a few tension-filled moments.

She exhales deeply and says, "Aaron and Eric rescued me and my son when we got separated from our group."

"You have a son," he states more than asks, sounding a bit surprised as his shoulders relax slightly.

"Yes. Joshua. He just turned nine," she replies, smiling proudly and swallowing back a huge lump as she thinks of her other precious little boy that she'd lost two years ago when the world first turned upside down. Blinking back unshed tears, she shakes her head and continues, "When we first got here, I watched everyone and everything for three days and never let Josh out of my sight. Then he went outside to play with some of the kids while I talked to Peter about working in the clinic and I heard him laugh, I mean really laugh for the first time in two years. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever heard and I knew that I had to make this place work. So I exhaled the breath I had been holding for twenty four months, told Peter that I would report for duty the next morning and went upstairs and cried for three hours straight. It was very cathartic," she finishes with a heartfelt grin.

"And here you are," he says, returning her grin with a crooked smile of his own.

"It's really not bad here, Rick. Yes, there are a few idiots who spoil the pot on occasion, just like any other small town in America. But for the most part, it's actually a good place to be. Your kids could be happy here," she says, stroking Judith's back gently as the baby sleeps against her father's chest. "You could be happy here," she adds softly, looking into the clear blue eyes that have seen nothing but misery and pain for a very long time.


	2. Chapter 2

Stepping into a pair of borrowed black heels, Kate examines her image in the mirror, taking in the pretty black and silver dress that falls just below her knees.

The thin spaghetti straps reveal a collarbone that is a little more prominent than it used to be and her eyes are a bit sadder, but she can still see the woman that used to love to go dancing. Back when there were places to dance and a reason to do it.

When she'd first heard mention of the cocktail party Deanna was throwing tonight to welcome their new guests, she'd wondered if Rick would actually be there. He certainly did not seem like he was in the partying mood yesterday and she couldn't imagine him mingling with the locals trading idle chitchat.

She'd met the majority of Rick's group since they'd arrived yesterday morning, but though he'd occupied her thoughts for much of the last two days, she hadn't seen the man himself since he'd left the clinic with his children. In his absence, she replayed bits of conversation she'd had with his group members, all of whom had sung his praises for all that he'd done for them in the last two years. He may not have walked on water, but listening to their words – he most definitely parted the seas and she was relieved to know that the kindness she had seen in the wary eyes of the gruff leader was truly real.

Now she is looking forward to the party more than she cared to admit. She recalls telling Rick what a relief it is to breathe again, and if you can breathe again - why not get dressed up occasionally and have a party.

An hour later, Kate places the bottle of seltzer back on the table and almost drops the full cup from her hand when she looks toward the front door where a group of people are joining the party. Dressed in a crisp white button up shirt tucked into clean black jeans, a freshly shaved Rick Grimes steps into the living room and her heart skips several beats at the sight. If not for those beautiful blue eyes and the adorable baby in his arms, she never would have recognized him in a million years. With his hair neatly trimmed and just enough five o'clock shadow to be considered stubble covering his chin, he is absolutely gorgeous and it amazes her that he'd hid it so well.

She watches Deanna take Judith from his arms and point him in her direction. It takes a moment to register that she was probably guiding him to the drinks and not to her specifically. All the same, she doesn't move when he starts to cross the room toward the table of assorted beer, soda, wine and a few bottles of hard liquor.

* * *

As Rick walks through the crowded house toward the dining room and a cold drink, he can't help smiling to himself at the stunned expression on the face of the pretty paramedic. Her slackened jaw and huge brown eyes tell him she's nearly as shocked by his appearance as he was when he first looked in the mirror yesterday.

"My God, why were you hiding that face?" she says softly, absently reaching a hand toward his chin when he stops directly in front of her.

"Laziness," he replies with a smirk as his eyes dance in the light from the chandelier shimmering above them.

She pulls her hand back as if it had touched a hot flame. "Oh shit, did I say that out loud?"

"Loud and clear." He laughs as her face glows a beautiful rosy blush.

"Oh God, I'm sorry." She covers her mouth for a moment before continuing, "You just took me by surprise. Um, you look nice, Rick. Really nice," she breathes, staring at his squared jawline and cleft chin.

"Thank you." He smiles shyly and actually begins to enjoy himself for the first time that he can remember. "You look really nice too," he says sincerely, dipping his beardless chin toward her high heels as he lets his eyes skim briefly over her shapely figure in the pretty cocktail dress.

"Thanks. It was actually nice to dress up again. A little weird at first, but nice," she says, taking a sip of seltzer water to settle the butterflies in her belly that are dancing an Irish jig at the way he's looking at her. "How's Carl feeling now?" she asks, gaining control of her hormones and sincerely concerned about his son.

"He's a little better today so I think the medicine is working. Sasha stayed back at the house with him," he replies as he grabs a bottle of spring water from a cooler beneath the table.

They spend the evening in easy companionship, letting the rhythm of the party flow smoothly around them as they talk about nothing and everything, getting to know each other and enjoying the other's company while pausing occasionally to say hello to friends and neighbors that inadvertently bump into them. They remain together regardless of where the current of the crowd moves them, smiling happily and touching frequently until Rick clasps her hand and leads her out to the side porch after getting trapped in a corner near the oven for fifteen minutes.

Leaning against the wooden railing, Kate takes a deep breath of the cool night air and glances over Rick's shoulder into the dining room to see Josh grab what had to be his hundredth handful of potato chips from a very large bowl. "That kid is not going to be feeling very well when he goes to bed tonight. I know I should stop him but it's been a long time since he's been to a party and I just don't have the heart."

"It's fine. Let him enjoy himself and worry about the bellyache later," Rick says, looking back through the window to follow her gaze. Turning back to Kate he adds, "I know a lady who runs a really nice clinic down the street that can take care of him."

"Oh yeah?" she asks, smiling up at him. "She helped you, did she?"

"Yes," he replies softly, stepping forward to close the distance between them. He lays a warm, calloused hand on her cheek. "She really did."

He leans down slowly, closing his eyes when his lips meet hers, soft and warm as they lift in response. He lingers for a moment and then begins to pull back only to feel a hand at his throat pulling his collar forward. She leans into his kiss but he keeps it gentle, savoring the feel of her lips against his. Tender touches and light tastes enflame his desire and he glides his tongue slowly along her bottom lip. "Ah, Kate," he breathes before angling his head to devour her mouth.

Wrapping his arms around her waist, he pulls her flush against him, deepening the kiss as their bodies mold to each other perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle that can only be connected to one another.

She eventually breaks the kiss to catch her breath and leans her forehead against his chin as she threads her fingers through the curly hair at his nape. She feels his lips against her temple and then her jaw as he kisses a path down to her neck. She hugs him fiercely, thrilled at being in his arms and loving the feel of his lips on her body.

When Maggie calls her name from the front section of the porch, they break apart quickly to a respectable distance but still within reach of each other, neither one wanting to lose that connection just yet. "We're back here," Kate calls out to the woman and a few moments later is informed that her son isn't feeling very well.

"Wow, that crap went through him even quicker than I thought. I'd better go find him." She turns to Rick and places a hand on his chest. "Wait for me?" she says softly.

He nods his head. "Of course. I'll walk you guys home."

As Kate returns to the party to retrieve Joshua, Maggie steps closer to her dear friend. "Glenn and I are going to say goodnight too. Do you want me to take Judy with us?"

"If you can get her away from Deanna, yeah, that would be great," he answers, feeling slightly guilty for not putting her to bed himself. "Thanks, Maggie."

"Any time," she replies, giving him a knowing smile that says she's sincerely happy for him. "And for what it's worth, I really like Kate." She gives him a quick hug before stepping back. "And your new face," she teases as she heads back toward the door. "Let me go find your daughter so you can say goodnight."

Left alone with his thoughts for the moment, he thinks how lucky he'd gotten with his apocalyptic family and he hopes that luck continues with their new friends in this little community - especially one particular friend with big brown eyes that seem to have the ability to touch what little soul he has left.

* * *

Rick peruses all the knickknacks and photos lined up on the bookcase and odd shelves throughout Kate's living room while she puts Josh to bed with a DVD of Shrek, his favorite he was informed. Scanning the faces of the people in the framed photographs, he realizes that these must have been the original owners of the house and wonders if she keeps them out to fight the loneliness he knows she's been feeling.

Moving over to the fireplace, there is only one framed photo on the entire length of the mantelpiece. A small wallet-sized picture in a slightly bigger frame sits in the center of the mantel. Two young boys, about five and seven he thinks, smile back at him with laughter in their eyes and their whole lives ahead of them. Unfortunately he knows that for one of them, it meant only another two years. Joshua's little brother was the spitting image of him except for the empty space in his smile where his two front teeth ought to be.

"That's my Sam," Kate says softly behind him.

Rick turns at the sound of her voice, surprised to find her so close when he hadn't heard her come down at all. "I knew you were feeling more than just pride whenever you talked about Josh. There was a sadness there as well and I knew you would tell me when you were ready. So it's okay if you're not ready to tell me about him."

"I didn't really want to talk about him at the party, but I would like to tell you about him now." She steps into his arms and lays her cheek against his chest, taking strength from his heart beating soundly beneath her ear. "His name was Samuel James Harrison and I had him for five and half wonderful years. He was full of mischief and mayhem and he smelled awful most of the time but he could make me laugh. God, could he make me laugh. Even when he pissed me off he'd always make me laugh in the end and that would make me even madder because I just couldn't get him to listen. You would've liked him."

"Yes I would." Rick kisses the top of her head as she wipes a single tear from the corner of her eye.

"We were leaving the city. Ted and I had just gotten divorced but it was amicable and he came and got me and the boys to take us away from the madness of the outbreak. The kids were terrified so we tried to make it like an adventure, like we were just going camping. But we got stuck on the highway with everyone running for the hills and before I knew what was happening, a man had attacked Sammy. Ted tried to save him and was bitten himself. He made me take Josh and run with a group of people that were next to us."

She looks up at Rick with tears streaming down her cheeks but her voice is calm and steady and he's never seen anything more beautiful or heartbreaking in his life. He wipes the tears that she seems to be oblivious of and presses his lips to her forehead, imagining how difficult it must have been for her to walk away from one child for the sake of another.

"It's okay though. At least he doesn't have to be afraid anymore, you know? He never had to run in fear all day and go to bed hungry and filthy. Well, he wouldn't have minded the filthy part - my mom is probably fighting to get him into a heavenly tub as we speak." She smiles at Rick as the tears numbly continue to fall. "But he's with his daddy and my parents and my old sheepdog Jasper and I really believe he's happy up there."

"I'm sure he is, honey. And someday you'll see him again yourself." Rick pulls her into his arms, sending a quick thanks to God for giving her Joshua to care for so she'd have no choice but to survive. "But not for a very long time so he'll just have to wait."

"I can wait," she says, snuggling against his hard body. "And I should probably go check on Josh." She gives him a soft kiss on the lips tasting of hope and salvation and walks away wiping the last of her tears for her sweet little boy.


	3. Chapter 3

When Kate steps down to the landing ten minutes later, she stops when she sees Rick standing by the front door. He lifts his head and their eyes meet, full of longing for something more, something good in this world where misery runs rampant on a daily basis. They hold each other's gaze for several heartbeats until Rick clears his throat and says, "I should probably get going."

Kate sits on the landing with her feet resting on the top step, hugging her knees to her chest beneath the skirt of her dress as she looks down at him. "Do you have to?"

"It's late," he responds but makes no move to put his boots back on.

"Stay. Please."

He doesn't have enough fight left in him to walk away from the touch of hopeful yearning in her voice combined with the spark of heady desire in her eyes. Taking the stairs two at a time, he places his hands on the landing at either hip and captures her mouth with his, slanting his lips across hers as they part in welcome and delving his tongue into the warmth of her mouth.

She clutches the collar of his shirt in passionate desperation and leans backward, pulling him down on top of her as she lays flat on the soft gray carpet of the landing, spreading her legs and wrapping her ankles around the backs of his jean-clad thighs.

Resting a knee on the top step, he presses his arousal against the thin material of her dress and panties covering the cleft of her spread thighs as he continues to ravish her mouth with ardent kisses, alternating between pecks and nibbles of her swelling lips and deeper French kisses that leave them both breathless.

Reaching down, he slides the hem of her dress up over her heated skin to stroke the smooth flesh of her bare thigh and caress the gentle curve of her derriere. When she moans into his mouth at the touch of his hand so close to her center, he breaks the kiss with all the self-control he possesses and buries his face in her hair as he rests both hands on the landing, a safe distance from her velvety skin.

"Honey, if I don't stop now, I won't be able to stop at all."

"I don't want you to stop, Rick. I won't ask you to."

"Are you sure, Kate?" he asks, leaning back to search the truth in her eyes.

"I know we barely know each other but I've never been more sure of anything in my life. And please don't think I do this kind of thing all the time," she says, caressing his cheeks as he hovers above her. "Ted's the only man I'd ever slept with, and I made him wait four months. But I don't want to wait another four minutes with you. Make love to me, Rick. Please."

"I don't have any condoms."

"We don't need them. I had to have a hysterectomy after Sammy was born. You don't have to worry about getting me pregnant."

The thought of being inside her with nothing between them is more than his libido can handle. Completely losing the battle for self-control, he claims her mouth and presses his erection urgently against her quivering flesh, reveling in the feeling of having her beneath him and the promise of what's to come.

Breaking their connection, he breathlessly asks, "Where to? I don't think you want to do this right here."

"Josh is in my big bed, so we'll just take his down the hall. He actually hasn't slept in it yet."

Rick pushes himself off of her and takes her hand to help her to her feet. "Lead the way."

On shaky legs trembling with desire and anticipation, Kate leads him up to the second level. Stopping at the master bedroom to peek in on her sleeping precious boy, she quietly pulls the door tightly closed and guides Rick past one bedroom with bunk beds stacked against a light green wall to a smaller bedroom with sports memorabilia adorning the masculine blue walls. A twin-sized bed is tucked into one corner of the room with a red and yellow comforter touting the Washington Redskins.

Rick closes and locks the door behind them, leaving the room in pale shadows as the incandescent light of the clear moon filters through the open windows. He pulls her into his arms, embracing her tenderly as he tries to restrain the desperate need he feels to be inside this woman.

He kisses her slowly, long languid strokes of his tongue swirling with hers as they explore each other's bodies with curious hands. He covers the roundness of her bosom with one large palm, caressing the fleshy mound while skating his thumb across the stimulated nipple protruding against the thin fabric of her dress.

She moans into his mouth as she fumbles with the small buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel the skin of his bare chest against hers. She breaks the kiss for a breath of air and looks down to focus on ridding him of the shirt with all the frustrating buttons.

As she makes quick work with trembling fingers and hungry eyes, he easily slips the thin straps of her dress off of her shoulders, letting the garment pool at her feet and leaving her standing before him in nothing but a pair of thong panties, the moonlight highlighting golden streaks in her hair and stardust on her dusky nipples.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathes, shrugging his shoulders to help her as she pushes his shirt down his sinewy arms.

When his shirt falls to the floor, he pulls her roughly against him, slightly course hairs flattening against the silky skin of her full breasts. He cups her behind fervidly, squeezing her bare cheeks as he devours her mouth in a ravenous kiss where want fuses with need to create one thought, one body, one heart beating for two lonely souls.

Bending his knees, he lifts her up and she wraps her legs around his waist, holding onto his shoulders as he carries her over to the bed.

He lays her down gently, treating her like the treasure he truly believes she is. Kissing the side of her neck, he works his way down to her collarbone, gliding his lips along its ridge and then lower to her cleavage, taking a distended bud into his mouth as his hand massages the bosom beneath it.

She threads her fingers through the dark curly hair at the back of his skull as she squirms with arousal under his touch. As he sucks on her supple flesh, one hand skims down her flat belly to dip inside the waistband of her panties. She holds her breath in expectation and inhales even further when two fingers slip inside her, feeling and fondling as they gently explore.

She writhes against his hand, every nerve ending in her body on fire for him. "God, Rick, I need you inside me already."

"I'm not gonna last long, sweetheart, so let's take care of you first."

He leaves her breast to kiss a path down her abdomen, swirling his tongue in and around her navel before he sits back to draw her panties down her legs, removing them completely.

Spreading her thighs with two large, calloused hands, he settles between her legs and lowers his mouth to her opening, caressing her heated folds with his tongue as his hands massage the smooth skin of her creamy thighs.

Curling his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the top of her entrance, he presses two long fingers inside her again, bringing her hips off the mattress as he sips at her swollen clit.

She cries his name as he takes her over the edge, clutching his hair almost painfully as he continues to suck and stroke her through her climax.

As she lies quivering in the aftermath, he quickly stands up to remove his jeans, boxer briefs and socks, and then kneels between her quaking thighs, leaning down to kiss her softly. "Are you ready for me?"

"Fuck yes," she groans against his mouth, reaching between them to grasp his erection. Stroking him fluidly, she guides his length to her opening, lifting her hips slightly to feel the tip of his penis at her entrance. She continues to stroke him as he pushes the silky head inside of her, holding himself just inside her walls as she moves her hand rapidly along his shaft. She is forced to stop when he thrusts all the way to her center, emitting a strangled growl against her neck that may have been her name as he buries himself to the hilt and fills her womb completely.

"Oh God!" She wraps her legs around him, holding onto him dearly as she gets acclimated to his size.

"Baby, you feel so fucking good," he says into her hair as he begins to move against her, gliding in and out in an easy rhythm as their hearts thump as one.

He leans back to increase the tempo, supporting himself on his hands against the mattress on either side of her head. Holding her gaze, he pumps his cock into her, creating a beautiful friction of sensual concession as they surrender their hearts and fill the emptiness in each other.

And when he lies trembling in her arms after coming explosively inside her, she rubs his back tenderly, caressing the sweat-sheened plane of his muscles as he buries his face in her neck. "Breathe, honey. Everything's going to be okay now. Just breathe."

Releasing an enormous breath that held months and months of fear, anger, grief and desperation, Rick quietly weeps in the arms of hope, promise and faith. He shudders with emotion as the tears roll down his cheeks, a silent memorial to all he had lost.

His tears drip down her neck, solidifying their union as the pillow catches a river of anguish. Then, when there are no tears left to fall and he is purged of all the heartache of lost loved ones and incredible remorse for the wedges of humanity that had been ripped from his soul at the barbaric acts he was forced to commit to save his family, he welcomes the feeling of connecting with another soul, and the hope of becoming completely human once again.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N Many thanks to those who have taken the time to leave a review! It really means a great deal to me. I hope you like the next installment as well. I'll try to update twice a week so you won't have to wait too long between chapters. Let me know what you think...**

* * *

Kate knocks on the door as her heart knocks just as hard inside her chest, sure that whoever opens the door will hear it. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, she berates herself for feeling more nervous now than she had last night when Rick first entered her home.

She was barely awake when he'd kissed her goodbye at the crack of dawn and if not for the pleasant soreness in certain parts of her body, she may have believed it was all a dream. They'd made love twice last night and talked for hours in between. It was the most wonderful night of her life and she treasured every moment, even the heart-wrenching ones when they'd held each other close and revealed all the horrid truths of what they'd endured in the last two years.

She believes that last night meant something to him as well, but things always seem different in the harsh light of day without the euphoric haze of endorphins clouding your senses. And now as she stares at her reflection in the large glass panes in the front door of his new home, her blood runs a jittery path through her veins for wanting something so damn much.

She hadn't planned on seeing him today, wanting to keep her distance of three doors down to give him some space, but while working at the clinic she saw his face in every box she'd inventoried and felt his touch in every breath she'd inhaled of the humid Virginia air.

After nearly throwing away a perfectly good box of sterile gauze pads in her inability to focus clearly, she had decided to give in to the distraction and go check on Carl, convincing herself that she was still working. And if she just happened to see the boy's father… so be it.

Lost in her thoughts, she is startled when the door swings inward and she sees Maggie standing on the other side. The woman greets her with a smile and invites her inside to wait while Rick finishes getting dressed upstairs.

"Oh, that's okay. I just wanted to see how Carl was feeling," she says, trying to convince them both that he was the reason for the visit.

"He's much better today," Maggie replies. "He should be coming down soon too. Come on in."

"No, I'll just come back later," she says, biting her lip as she wrings her sweating hands. "Just tell them I stopped by. Or not. Either way. Whatever," she stammers as she turns to flee the porch of the man she had fallen head over heels for in only two days.

"Kate, don't be silly. Come on in. I know he'll want to see you." Maggie takes a step backward, giving her room to enter the spacious house.

"Really? How do you know?" she says, praying that the hopeful desperation that she feels isn't carrying over into her voice as she follows Maggie into the living room.

"Because when he was sneaking into the house just before the sun came up this morning, he told me that he felt like he was finally home. And I don't think he was talking about this house, or Alexandria."

Smiling at the statement, Kate releases a steadying breath, expelling all the nervous energy she'd carried around with her all morning, feeling like she was back in junior high with her hormones running in circles.

"Seriously though, Kate, that man cares an awful lot about you which means he will die to protect you. He's a good man and if you hurt him in any way… she will kill you," Maggie says lightly, pointing to a scowling Michonne who is standing in front of the fireplace with a well-toned, ebony arm stretched across the mantle right below a very sharp looking katana suspended on the wall.

"I believe you," she responds with an uneasy chuckle. "And I won't hurt him. He _is_ a good man."

"He's the best. And I think he really needs you. You make him happy," Maggie adds honestly.

"He makes me happy too." Kate swallows the lump in her throat and looks toward the stairs as she hears heavy footsteps descending from the second floor. With a sanguine sigh, she releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding when he steps into view wearing a black and gray sheriff's uniform.

Walking toward her, he scans the room quickly before leaning down to give her a quick peck on the lips. "Hi," he says softly.

"Hi. My God, you look good." She lays a hand on his crisp black tie, openly admiring the sharp uniform and all it represents even though her eyes never leave his face.

"You a cop again?" Daryl asks as he walks quietly out from the kitchen, a half-eaten apple in his hand and the ever-present crossbow protruding from his shoulder as naturally as if it were an extension of his own flesh and bone.

"For now. We'll see how it goes," Rick responds.

The hunter nods his head once, accepting the answer and trusting in his brother. He gives a second nod to Kate, putting his trust in her as well as he makes his way out the front door.

"Come here." Rick takes her hand and leads her into a small office off of the living room. Away from curious onlookers, he takes her in his arms, breathing in her fresh spring scent. "You always smell so nice."

"Last night was nice," she murmurs against his chest, deliriously happy at being in his arms again.

"Nice?" he asks with a teasing lilt.

"Yeah. Well no, I mean it was incredible and it meant a lot to me," she says in a rush of words and emotion, pushing against his chest defensively.

"Hey, come here," he says chuckling against her hair as he crushes her to his chest. "It meant a lot to me too. You mean a lot to me, Kate."

She lifts her head and his lips melt into hers, gently loving with heartfelt tenderness. She opens her mouth and he slips inside, slowly stirring her spirit as their tongues embrace in remembrance of what they'd shared and a promise of more to come.

At the sound of Carl's voice echoing in the other room, they break apart quickly and walk back into the living room.

"Hey kiddo. I just stopped by to see how you were feeling," Kate says, brushing her long dark waves behind her ear and selfishly hoping he's not well enough to suspect anything from her slightly flustered behavior. "You're looking much better now. How do you feel?"

"A lot better. Still kind of tired but at least my head isn't spinning anymore," he replies with a crooked smile inherited from his father. "Dad, can I go walk around the block? Michonne says it's a really nice neighborhood."

"Sure. I think there are a couple of boys about your age that live around the corner."

"That's Danny and Michael," Kate informs them with a nod. "Listen, Josh will be home from school in about a half hour. He can show you around if you'd like. The older kids have school in the afternoons. You can join them when you're feeling up to it. If you want," she adds quickly when a choked look of distressed longing glances across the young man's face as if a faint memory of big yellow busses and teachers with frizzy gray hair and difficult math problems pierce his tender psyche.

"That sounds good. Thanks." Carl responds softly.

Kate smiles at the boy warmly. "It's hard to call it a school actually," she says lightly in deference to the sliver of sorrow at the edges of his eyes. "It's in a garage and each session only lasts for a couple of hours. But I think you'll like it."

"Thanks Kate," Rick says, meeting her eyes and touching her hand for a brief moment.

"No problem. I'll send Joshua down after lunch." She smiles at Carl before he heads off into the kitchen for a late breakfast. Looking back at Rick she says, "And now I should get back to my inventory."

"Come on, I'll walk with you." Rick follows her outside and they fall in step together, walking leisurely down the center of the street. Ingrained with the habit of listening intently to his surroundings, first as a cop and then as a survivor in a post-apocalyptic world, he hears a couple of muffled voices reaching them through the narrow alley between the houses on their right. Recognizing the sound of normal humans having a regular conversation as opposed to the undead vernacular of snarling and growling, he ignores his initial knee-jerk reaction of fight-or-flight and continues to nonchalantly put one foot in front of the other. "Did you tell Josh about us yet?" he asks as they turn the corner toward the clinic.

"No," she answers honestly, holding back the thought that she wasn't sure if there was an actual 'us' until just a few minutes ago. "But I'd like to. What about Carl?"

"I'll tell him today. After he goes out with Joshua," he replies.

"Okay. I'll tell Josh afterward too then," she says, happy that their relationship is moving in the right direction.

They walk in comfortable silence until they reach the worn steps of the clinic. Climbing the stairs, he takes her hand and turns her toward him before she reaches for the doorknob. "No matter what the boys say, I want this to work, Kate."

She smiles up at him tenderly. "So do I," she replies, squeezing his hand and then abruptly letting it go when the door of the clinic opens with a scritch of its hinges.

"Hey Katie. I was just about to come look for you," Aiden Monroe says brightly from the doorway, his dark beady eyes glimmering arrogantly above the high cheekbones of his narrow face.

"Sorry Aiden. I just went to check on Rick's son," she replies, feeling a bit defensive. "What did you need?"

"Nothing really. Just wanted to see if there was anything specific we should look for on our run tomorrow," he answers, giving Rick a very brief glance and then discounting him just as quickly.

Rick had been introduced to Deanna's son yesterday but hadn't seen him since, Aiden having forgone the party welcoming Rick and his family. He'd heard bits and pieces about the kid and watching him now with his holier-than-thou attitude as he makes eyes at Kate, _his Kate_ , he consciously unclenches the fist that he'd like to break the little shit's privileged attitude with and listens to Kate's response.

"Well, I'm in the middle of going through the inventory now. Give me an hour and I'll let you know," she replies with a tight smile, feeling the coiled tension radiating from Rick.

"Yeah, I saw the boxes in the stockroom upstairs. Do you want me to help you finish?" he offers with a saccharine smile as he steps out onto the porch.

"No thanks, I've got it covered," she replies quickly, not thrilled about him wandering through the clinic when she and Peter weren't around. "I'll get back to you before the run." Stepping around Aiden, she enters the clinic and closes the door on the men with a soft click.

Deanna's son turns to Rick with a smug look plastered on his thin features. "Rick, right?"

"Yeah," the sheriff replies unsmiling.

"Thought so," Aiden mumbles looking down at Rick's boots before stepping off the porch and walking away, disrespecting the man and his badge.

Ignoring the insolent kid, Rick opens the door to find Kate waiting for him just on the other side. He closes the door quickly behind him and reaches for her, grabbing a jealous hold of her waist. "Katie?" he teases as he backs her up against the door of the coat closet. "A bit young for you, don't you think?"

"Actually, he's twenty-six which is only four years younger than me. Which, by the way, is the same difference as me and you," she says, groaning on the last word as he nibbles on the sensitive flesh of her neck. "So you must think I'm too young for you, huh?" she retorts, gripping his broad shoulders tightly as he wedges his knee between her thighs.

"Not at all," he says, kissing up the column of her throat and straightening his knees. "You're perfect for me," he continues, cupping her cheeks in his large hands as he looks at her with profound tenderness. "You're young enough to teach me how to laugh again, and old enough to hold me when I cry."

Covering his left hand, she turns to kiss the warm palm at her cheek and swallows the small lump formed at his touching words. With her hand against his, she notices the absence of the solid gold wedding band that had adorned his ring finger last night. She pulls his hand back to verify what her sense of touch is telling her to believe and sees a thin white strip of skin where the ring had blocked the sun for many years.

"Rick…" she breathes at the enormity of the gesture.

"I'm all yours, sweetheart. I want nothing between us."

Letting go of his hand, she wraps her arms around his neck and hugs him fiercely.

With his arms snaked around her waist, they hold each other for several long moments, breathing in the others scent and letting go of past loves and current crushes.

With a heavy sigh, Rick loosens his hold and pulls himself back. "I should probably get to work and let you get back to your inventory," he says lightly before leaning his forehead against hers.

"Yeah, sorry I made you late for your first day as our new chief."

"Don't worry. I'll say I felt lightheaded and needed to see a paramedic when Aiden narcs to his mom about me being over here."

"Lightheaded, huh?" she asks innocently. "I know the feeling."


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Thanks so much to my awesome reviewers - you guys are the best! Did you see the Comic Con panel from San Diego? How frikkin cute is Andy?! God, I love that man. Now without further ado, I bring you more sexy Rick. Enjoy...**

* * *

"Josh said they got here three weeks ago and he hasn't seen a walker since," Carl tells his father with concern in his narrowed dark brows as they sit side by side on the porch steps of their new home, the hum of contented voices in relaxed conversation filtering out through the open windows of the living room behind them.

"Yeah, these walls are nice and high. I'm not surprised he hasn't seen one," Rick replies, glancing at the large panels constructed about 50 feet away, cutting off the fucked up world outside this sanctuary. "Doesn't mean they aren't there though."

"Exactly. I don't want to get too comfortable in here, Dad. What if we lose our edge and can't defend ourselves out there anymore?"

"That's not gonna happen, Carl. I think we've been through too much not to have that edge imbedded deep inside us. We can be comfortable here without getting soft, I'm sure of it." Rick squeezes his son's neck reassuringly. "And I won't let that happen, okay?" he says firmly, knowing he will do whatever it takes to keep his family behind these walls and stay sharp in the process.

"Okay."

Rick removes his palm, which is beginning to sweat at the prospect of broaching the subject of his involvement with another woman since they'd lost Lori a year and a half ago. He picks at the small bullet hole in the dark denim covering his left thigh, thinking he's almost as scared right now as he was in the battle against his old enemy, The Governor. Only the enemy this time will be the loving memory of a boy's mother and how the hell do you fight that? But he truly cares about Kate and he will fight for her if he must. Taking a steadying breath, he nervously edges into precarious territory. "So, Josh is a nice kid, huh?"

"Sure. He's gonna introduce me to the other guys tomorrow."

"That's good. That's good." He nods, hesitating for a few moments before jumping off the high dive. "And you know Josh's mom, right?" he says, taking the plunge and swimming hard for the surface. "She's nice too, huh?"

"Yeah Dad. She's nice too," Carl says dryly, giving Rick a smirk as he gently swings an elbow into his father's ribs. "And I know you like her."

"What? Why do you say that?" he quickly asks, stunned at his son's words and the casual way in which they were uttered.

"Josh told me you were with her all night."

Rick's heart skids to a halt and his mouth goes bone dry as he gapes at Carl.

"At the party," Carl adds and Rick's heart thumps in rhythmic pulses once again, if a bit harder inside his chest.

"Yes," Rick blurts with immeasurable relief. "Uh, yeah, we talked quite a bit at the party," he admits as he tries to control his ragged breaths at the thought of Josh knowing he'd slept in his mother's bed last night.

"It's fine, Dad. I want you to be happy, you deserve it."

"Yeah?" he asks tremulously, overjoyed and more than slightly impressed with his teenaged son's thoughtfulness.

"Yeah," Carl assures him with a strong nod, meeting Rick's eyes. "As long as she doesn't make you weak," Carl adds with more maturity than his fourteen years should reflect.

Rick looks at his son with a strange mixture of pride and regret squeezing his heart and sends his thanks to the heavens for leading them to this sanctuary with hope for a brighter future. "She won't," he reassures Carl. "It's hard to explain, buddy, but she's really special and if anything, I think she'll make me stronger."

"I guess we'll see." Carl leans forward over his knees to look past Rick toward something that must have caught his eye.

Following Carl's gaze, Rick turns to see Kate and Joshua advancing on them as they walk down the street. He immediately smiles at her and she gives him a small inconspicuous wave from her hip. "Hi," he says brightly when the pair reaches the walkway leading up to his home.

"Hi guys," she starts, a trace of anxiety lacing her voice. "Uh, Josh and I just wanted to know if you, and Judith, would like to have dinner with us tonight and maybe watch a movie afterward. We have Lord Of The Rings, Star Wars – the original one from the seventies, not those stupid Episode things that came twenty years later, uh, Jurassic Park, a few animated movies and my favorite – Pretty Woman," she finishes with a tilt of her head and an adorable dreamy look on her face as Rick assumes she's picturing Richard Gere and Julia Roberts.

"Frodo and Luke Skywalker," Rick says turning to Carl, his voicing rising like a question as he dangles the cinematic carrot in front of the teenager's bright eyes. "What do you say, buddy?"

"Sure, that sounds great," he replies, smiling at Kate sincerely.

"Great. How's 5:30?" she asks, relief evident in her eyes.

"Perfect." Rick smiles at her feeling like they'd just conquered something together. Looking down at her side, he notices Josh glancing in his direction shyly and then giving Carl a conspiratorial smirk. He looks back at the boy's mom as he exhales deeply, realizing that he had been just as anxious about Joshua's acceptance as he had been of his own son's.

* * *

After a lovely, wonderfully domestic spaghetti dinner, Rick tries to watch the DVD but finds his attention constantly leaving Luke and Han's intergalactic adventure to watch the less dramatic scene play out directly in front of him; Carl lying on the floor with Josh, utterly relaxed and quietly engrossed in a movie while Judy plays contentedly next to him with an array of plastic bowls and cups, looking up at the flat screen TV every so often when a flashy light or loud noise captures her focus. The long wavy hair of the beautiful woman whose head rests on his lap threads through his fingers like dark silk as she breathes deeply in a peaceful sleep.

When the credits begin to roll and the boys start collecting all the bits of popcorn that got lost between the bowl and their mouths, he shakes her gently awake. "Hey, it's over. I should probably get the kids home now."

She turns onto her back and looks up at him drowsily as she tucks his warm hand under her chin. "Come back to me after," she whispers softly. "I'll wait up."

He promises with a nod as he brushes his thumb along the smooth column of her neck.

Less than an hour later, without bothering to knock first, Rick opens the door quietly and slips inside to the foyer of Kate's house. It's only been forty-five minutes since he left her but his body is physically aching to touch her again. Stepping out of his boots, he places them against the wall to the side of the door, making a conscious effort to restore some consideration for neatness after disregarding it for so long in the effort to just survive.

The downstairs rooms are darkened except for the edges where some light is spilling over from the chandelier suspended in the cathedral ceiling above the foyer. He climbs the stairs and hears her singing softly through the slightly open door of the master bedroom. He glances toward the small bedroom they had shared last night and sees a band of light spreading beneath the closed door.

He wouldn't have minded snuggling with Kate in the small bed again, but he's happy that Josh is finally moving into his own room. And he's not surprised at all that he's sleeping with the light on. Carl himself keeps his door fully open with the hall light on to keep the tendrils of nightmares from invading his sleep. Maybe if they stay here long enough, they'll be able to sleep in the dark someday.

Turning back toward the big bedroom, Rick taps on the door softly and steps inside to the sound of Kate's melodic voice drifting from the master bathroom accompanied by the soothing drone of rushing water as it fills the large triangular-shaped tub.

In his haste to hold her again, he barely registers the pale yellow walls surrounding the green and white quilt covering the king –sized bed in the center of the large room furnished neatly with an oak armoire and its matching dresser beneath a good sized flat screen television. He pulls his white tee shirt over his head and drops it on the thick beige carpet on his way into the bathroom, listening to Bruce Springsteen's lyrics softly echoing off the tiles. Standing at the threshold unnoticed, he watches Kate as she leans over the tub playing with the faucet and then holding her hand beneath the running water to feel for the perfect temperature. Her curvy bottom sways in the air to the upbeat rhythm of a tune that only she can hear in a resurrected memory from days gone by…

Sometimes it might seem like it was planned

for you to roam empty hearted through this land,

though the world turns you hard and cold

there's one thing mister, that I know,

that's if you think your heart is stone

and that you're rough enough to whip this world alone,

alone buddy there ain't no peace of mind

that's why I'll keep searching 'til I find

my special one,

two hearts are better than one

two hearts girl get the job done

two hearts are better than one.

Agreeing with Mr. Springsteen, Rick crosses the floor toward the woman who shares his heart, her bare legs extending out from a silky robe that falls barely mid-thigh as candlelight flickers against her creamy skin from a half dozen wax pillars lined up on the tiled shelf between the tub and the back wall.

"Damn, woman," he murmurs, alerting her to his presence just before he fits his groin to the cleft of her ass as a light breeze drifts in from the open window above the tub. "Is it hot enough for you?"

"Mmmm, it's getting there," she replies, shimmying her backside against his growing arousal before standing straight against him and laying her head back on his bare shoulder.

Wrapping his arms around her middle, he squeezes her affectionately as he peppers the side of her neck with moist kisses. As she purrs in his arms, he slips one large hand inside the robe to massage her breast while his other hand pulls at the thin silk belt tied at her waist.

When the simple knot is tugged free, the robe falls open and he skims his fingers lightly over her flat abdomen to cup her mound. Filling her mouth with his tongue as she tilts her head toward him, he works one finger inside her opening, stroking deeply and then receding to tease her clit.

"Oh God," she moans into his mouth as he pulls on her nipple gently while fondling her most sensitive cluster of nerves at the apex of her thighs.

He feels her hands gripping his thighs, pulling him against her and knows she is getting close as the soft mewling sounds coming from her exposed throat get emphatically louder and higher.

"Yeah, baby. I want you to come for me sweetheart," he says against her hair before licking delicately behind her ear as his fingers work her briskly. After several quickened heartbeats and a few short gasps of humid air, he feels her body begin to shudder.

"Oh yes!" She clamps her knees together, trapping his hand between her thighs as her orgasm vibrates down her shuddering legs.

"That's it, baby," he says before pulling his hand out from her body and slipping the robe off of her shoulders to fall in a small silken heap on the floor.

With a finger guiding her chin back toward him again, he presses his mouth to hers for a brief but steamy kiss. Dropping his hand to unfasten his jeans, he says in a low, somewhat stern voice designed for authority but quivering with need, "Bend over the sink, honey."

She turns to face the counter with the double sink as the tub continues to fill. He catches her eye in the mirror as the tinny clink of his belt buckle echoes off the tiles beneath his feet. Pushing his jeans and boxer briefs down just far enough to free his erection, he grips her hip and guides his engorged cock into her entrance, slowly gaining access until he is filling her completely.

"Fuck, baby, you feel so good." He thrusts with strong, even strokes while she rocks on her forearms to receive every heartfelt lunge.

He watches his shaft glide fluidly in and out of her beautiful body, beating and retreating faster and faster until he is forced to close his eyes against the image to keep from coming too soon.

When he feels her hand squeezing his balls, his belly tightens and he groans deeply, opening his eyes to watch their shadowy reflections in the mirror. Her dark hair shimmers over the milky plane of her flattened back as he stands tall behind her, his chest heaving slightly with his efforts.

Holding himself deep inside her, he leans forward to reach around her hip and fondles her clit, fingering the slick tissue until he feels her walls constrict around his dick as she climaxes again, a hearty groan erupting from her diaphragm.

"Oh God, Rick!"

"Oh yeah, honey." He rubs his stubbled chin against the soft skin between her shoulder blades. "I love hearing you moan my name when I make you come."

Removing his hand, he sucks the moisture from his finger before gripping her hip to resume thrusting into her quaking body. The candlelight dances against the walls, gyrating to and fro in waves of gold as he pumps his length into her harder and harder until he reaches that euphoric peak and leaps over the top into a flurry of salacious currents.

* * *

"You're turning into a prune." Kate lifts Rick's hand from her chest and kisses his palm lovingly as lukewarm water drips from his wrist, the heat of the bubbly water having almost completely dissipated as the candlewax burned lower and lower as their easy conversation wore on, relaxed in each other's embrace.

"I'm sure you are too, a very beautiful prune," he says, touching his lips to the back of her head as she shifts slightly against his chest. "But damn, I can get used to this," he whispers softly behind her ear.

Snuggled between his legs in the large tub, she tilts her head against his shoulder, weighing her next words carefully before speaking them aloud. "Honey, I don't want your family to think I'm taking you away from them."

"They don't, and you're not. I'm just extending my family to include you and Josh. They know I'm still there for them."

"I think most of them do, yeah. But I'm not so sure about Abraham."

"Why? What did he say to you?" he asks with an edge of alertness that wasn't there a moment ago.

She feels his body tense up behind her and regrets mentioning the redheaded man's name. Knowing Rick won't let her drop it now, she treads lightly. "Nothing really, just the way I've seen him look at me. Like I'm not one of you guys and I don't belong with you. I don't want to come between you and your family, Rick."

"Hey, I don't want anything coming between you and me. I'll have a talk with Abraham, don't worry about him."

She sits up and turns to face him, kneeling between his knees with her pleading hands flattened against his chest. "Please don't put me between the two of you.

I was silly to think that Carl's was the only approval you would need. I forgot what you meant to every one of those people who walked through the gates with you."

"Listen to me, honey. They mean the world to me, but so do you." He pulls her closer, forcing her to straddle his thighs. "And Abe and I have butted heads before so I shouldn't be surprised that he'd be pigheaded about this too," he says, wrapping his arms around her hips as she settles comfortably on his lap, the peaks of her breasts jostling just above the surface of the water.

"I can see his point, but no matter what Abraham says, I feel like I do belong with you. And I know it's crazy because we only met three days ago, but I feel like I've known you forever." Her hands move up to his neck as she looks at him deeply, her eyes filled with sincerity along with a trickle of fear.

"I know what you mean, sweetheart. I feel the same way and it's almost as scary as living on the other side of that wall." He gives her a little smirk and she leans forward until her forehead is resting against his.

"I promise I won't take you away from them. But they'll have to get used to sharing you with me. I'm not giving you up, Rick. I can't," she says softly in the flickering candlelight.

"You won't have to, and I wouldn't let you anyway." He presses his mouth to hers, sealing their promise and then proving it as he slips his tongue between her parted lips and lifts her hips, pulling her closer to his growing erection.

* * *

Lying like spoons in a drawer with her rump nestled comfortably in his lap as the glow of the moon streaming through the window bathes them in a soft shadowy light, she sleepily squeezes the hand covering her breast and feels Rick's strong arm tighten against her belly, pulling her soft curves back against his hard body.

Coming slowly awake, she rolls beneath his arm as her eyes flutter open to see him looking at her with clear cerulean eyes that have no foggy residue of slumber whatsoever. With one hand curled against his chest, her other hand covers his jaw, her thumb tracing a soft arc across his whiskered chin as she gazes back at him. "Still sleeping with one eye open, sheriff?"

"Yeah," he murmurs in the quiet space between them, looking at her intently. "But for a totally different reason," he says warmly as he seems to study her face.

She smiles at him tenderly and tucks her head underneath his chin as she wraps her arm around his back and hooks a leg over his muscular thigh to lay flush against him. She feels his heavy thickness stirring between them, already semi-hard and growing stiffer with every beat of their hearts as she melts into his form.

She is amazed at how intensely her body responds to his and chalks it up to living in a perilous world that forces you to make every precious moment count. But as he lies in her arms, she can't help but feel that he was made for her, and she for him, and it wouldn't be any different if they'd met during peaceful times with the absence of deadly diseases and economic ruin.

With his steely flesh prodding against her pubic bone as he shifts slightly to line up with her opening, she feels like an insatiable young woman on her honeymoon; having her man between her legs for the third time in one night.

They'd collapsed into bed after making love in the tepid water just before climbing out of the tub, falling asleep quickly in each other's arms as the night grew deeper around them.

Now several hours later, the moonlight catches his dark hair, weaving tendrils of silver in the wavy locks at his nape as he covers her body with his and finds his way home.

Unfortunately, the fickle moonlight that glows benevolently on two lovers inside of a darkened bedroom of a small safe haven also shines upon three dark figures slinking behind the dilapidated house just outside the gate of their sanctuary, the silvery light gleaming off the metal edges of the fully-loaded firearms held tightly at their sides.


	6. Chapter 6

A low rumble of distant thunder resonates in the quiet air as Rick patrols the block one last time before heading home for dinner. He'll be eating with his family tonight but is looking forward to going to Kate's once the kids are all in bed. He makes a mental note to set an alarm to wake him before sunrise tomorrow to avoid another near-miss like this morning.

Never in his adult life had he slept as good as he does in Kate's arms, shrugging aside the crushing weight of the world for a few hours and just being; being still, being happy, being with her. Sleeping so deeply in peaceful content, he didn't wake until almost eight this morning and hurried home to find Carl coming down the stairs just as he was sneaking in the front door. He had played it off by telling his son that he was just out taking a walk and the fact that Carl believed him without question made him feel like shit. He hated lying to his son but he wasn't ready to confess the extent of his feelings about Kate. It was still so fresh and fragile and he wanted to cradle it carefully inside his damaged soul for a little while longer.

Turning the corner by the townhouses, a strong breeze assaults his senses with the pungent, somewhat electrical odor of the ozone that usually precedes a good rain. From the look of the dark clouds moving across the ominous sky, he knows it's going to be a hearty storm and is thankful once again that they've landed in this place.

He never minded the rain and actually enjoyed a good lightning display until they had to spend the night in that barn last week during a hellacious storm that brought them a deadly tornado along with a herd of walkers. _God, was it just last week?_

Getting lost in his thoughts of how incredibly quickly time can move through some days and how cruelly it can trudge on interminably through others, he looks down at his watch and thinks of Dale, knowing his old friend would have some piece of ageless wisdom to share on the subject.

Looking back up and seeing the three white houses at the end of the street, the three structures that hold his entire world, he quickens his relaxed stride just as two loud cracks split the silence from just across the pond. Two cracks that were definitely not thunder.

Reacting instinctively to the sound of the gunshots, Rick grabs his gun from its holster and quickly jumps onto the closest porch. He peers around the side of the clinic to look beyond the water toward the front gate. He notices a small lump distorting the flat ridgeline of the dilapidated house that sits just outside the gate. The lump moves slightly and another shot takes a piece of bark off of a tree less than thirty feet from the porch.

After pulling back quickly in response to that last shot, he waits several beats of his pounding heart and listens for the sound of snipers coming at them from any other direction. As he glances quickly up and down the road in front of him, another shot breaks an upstairs window of the house across the street, next to Aaron and Eric's place. _Shit!_ Recognizing the sound of a rifle as opposed to the first shooter's shotgun, he knows he's dealing with two suspects but believes they are both at the other end of the block by the main gate.

With his Colt Python cocked and ready, he leans out from his cover and fires two rounds at the intruder perched on the roof and then swiftly moves to the left to peer around the other corner of the clinic to get a look at the tower. He sees movement inside the slim dome shaped windows in the top of the lookout and squints in wonder as to why their sentry isn't firing back at the snipers. A moment later his question is answered when the barrel of the shotgun is protruding from one of the glassless windows with its sight on the townhouses across from him. _Fuck!_

Rick fires a shot at the tower and jumps back behind the wall before waiting to see if he'd hit his mark. Facing the street once again, he watches Daryl and Aaron race toward him from where they'd been working on a motorcycle in Aaron's garage.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" Daryl asks on a heavy breath, his calm gravelly voice at odds with the way his blue beady eyes flicker right and left as he moves onto the porch next to Rick, his ever-present Stryker crossbow held securely in his left hand.

"Two shooters, one in the tower and one on the roof by the gate," Rick replies and then looks at Aaron. "Anything like this ever happen before?"

"No, never."

"Rick?" Kate's voice calls from the slightly opened door of the clinic. "What's going on?"

"Stay inside," he responds taking three long strides before reaching the doorway and walking into the clinic with Daryl and Aaron on his heels. With a hand on Kate's shoulder, he notices Alexandria's leader Deanna and her husband Reg standing at a large window next to a narrow cot. "Get away from the windows, dammit!"

"We were just talking to Katherine and heard what sounded like gunfire. What's going on, Rick?" Reg asks as he ushers his wife toward the small kitchen area on the other side of the room.

"We're being attacked – that's what's going on, Reg," Rick snaps at the tall thin man, his frustrated anger boiling just beneath the surface. "Whoever you had up in that tower did a lousy fucking job of keeping watch!"

"We didn't have anyone up there," Deanna says flatly, standing close to her husband with a nervous hand on his arm.

"Why the hell not?!" Rick explodes, rounding on the short woman and causing Daryl to glance back at his leader from his position at the edge of a window.

Though Deanna is small in stature, her bold green eyes highlight an expression of fierceness that dares anyone to challenge her. "We've never needed one," she answers stoically but her hand fiddles uneasily with the pendant hanging from a thin gold chain at her throat.

"You always need one! How the hell have you people survived for so long?!"

"Rick." Kate places a steadying hand on the dark sleeve of his uniform jacket. "We screwed up, we know that. Just tell us what to do now."

"Christ," he exhales as his eyes connect with hers and then meet Aaron's gaze, resignation etched on the man's features as he waits for Rick's command. "Just stay inside here." Looking back at Deanna he asks, "Who's got the key to the armory?"

"I have one and Olivia has the other," Reg interjects and then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a ring with a half dozen keys jangling against each other. He holds up one gold house key and one smaller silver key. "This opens the door to the back room and this opens the footlocker that the handguns are kept in, mostly 9mm. Rifles and shotguns are in the rack on the wall. Take whatever you need. If Olivia's there, tell her I said it was okay."

As Reg places the keys into Rick's open palm, the sound of quickly descending footsteps echo off the stairs and Aiden joins them a moment later just as the back door of the clinic bursts open.

Six heads turn anxiously from the stairs to the back door to see Peter supporting Eugene with the help of Frank Kingston. The three men stumble through the doorway and Eugene is deposited gently on the bed in the center of the room, his chest heaving wildly below his pale face as the sheets collect of puddle of blood beneath his right thigh.

"Kate!" Peter yells as he reaches for a pair of sharp scissors from the metal cart next to the bed. "I need your help over here!"

Kate turns to Rick and gives him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. "Be careful, honey." She squeezes his arm tightly for a moment before hurrying into position as Peter's assistant.

Rick glances at Eugene as Peter cuts a semi-straight line up the center of his pants leg to reveal the wound. Fury rises to the surface with every moan that escapes his friend's throat. Shaking off the urge to punch something - anything, he unclenches his fists and turns to his brother. "Daryl, let's get to the armory and then we'll go back to the house to get Michonne and Glenn."

"I'll come with you," Aiden says as another loud crack is followed by the distinctive sound of breaking glass, making everyone wince.

"No," Rick says with authority. "I can't be worrying about you too. Just stay here and keep your parents safe." He turns his back on the young man and follows Daryl out the front door.

Three minutes later, a flurry of hands choose their weapons from the selection of firearms spread out on the dining room table.

"Glenn, you and Maggie check the perimeter back here and around toward the townhouses," Rick instructs as the metallic click and scrape of gun chambers being opened and closed fills the room. "I think there's only the two of them at the gate but you never know."

"How do we get over the wall, Rick?" Maggie asks as she pockets a second handful of 9mm ammo for the Beretta she had chosen.

"There's a spot behind Aaron's house, I saw a girl climb over it this morning," he replies. "We'll go over and then you two sweep right while Daryl and I go left to take out the snipers."

"Got it," Maggie responds and nods to her husband as he fills his own pockets with extra ammunition.

Turning to the dark warrior of the group, Rick adds, "Michonne, you and Sasha sneak around the houses and get up to the third floor of the townhouse on that end unit."

"That's Amy and Steve's place," Carol says and earns a strange look from Rick. "What? Amy loves to bake so we're exchanging recipes." She shrugs her shoulders with a fixed expression of sheer innocence that doesn't fool any of them.

"Recipes?" Rick asks dubiously.

"Yes, recipes. Just keeping up appearances," she says before giving him a brilliant smile that demonstrates exactly what kind of image she is trying to project.

He shakes his head in amusement fused with respect and admiration for his very dear friend and then turns back to the other women. "Sasha, I want you to fire on them while Daryl and I get behind that house. Take position at the last window while Michonne moves something sporadically in front of the first two."

"I won't hit him from there, Rick," Sasha quickly objects, lifting her eye from the sight of a twenty-five inch Remington rifle.

"You won't have to. Just keep firing at that house and tower to cover us so we can get close. They'll expect you to be in the first windows so that's what they'll aim for. You stay at the back one and don't worry about hitting the target." He picks up a slightly battered walkie-talkie and hands it to her, momentarily taken back to another time with an even more battered device that he'd used, unsuccessfully, to contact Morgan at the beginning of The Turn. He sends up a quick silent prayer that his friend is still safe in King County where he'd found him alone last year holed up in his old hometown, and then focuses on Sasha once again. "As soon as we clear the area, I'll let you know."

"Fine. Let's do this."

"Rick, what do you want me to do?" Carol asks as the group breaks up to get to their assigned tasks.

"Just stay in here and keep Carl and Judith safe 'til this is over." He nods to his son and the teenager dips his own chiseled chin in reply as the baby in his arms plays with the long dark hair at his collar. Picking up a Glock 9mm from the table, Rick places the gun in Carol's hand. "Stay away from the windows and stay alert."

He pulls her into his arms for a brief hug then moves to quickly embrace his children before joining Daryl and the others at the back door.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N Thanks so much for reviewing! Please keep them coming :)**

* * *

Rick wipes his forehead when the heavy drizzle flattens his dark wavy hair to his scalp as he watches Michonne and Sasha scurry past Aaron's house to make their way to the townhouse. When they duck out of his sight, he turns back to watch Glenn scale the wall using the thick bolts that someone had inserted into either side of one of the metal beams running vertically up the panel.

Glenn reaches the top and finds a coil of rope tied to an extra bolt just beneath the ridge of the panel. He grabs the loop and moves up to the next step which brings his head just above the fence line. Rick sees him pause to look out across the expanse of grass, trees and distant houses surrounding the safe-haven known as Alexandria. "See anyone?" the sheriff asks quietly, anxiously wanting to get over the wall himself as the sound of shattering glass echoes continuously above the rooftops as their precious solar panels fall victim to the merciless attack.

"No, it's clear." Glenn tosses the length of rope over the edge and pulls his way up and over the wall.

When Rick finally lands on the other side, he watches Glenn and Maggie go off to the right before he and Daryl hug the fence to the left, working their way around the panels and taking cover from the copse of thick trees that stand outside the southwestern end of the sanctuary.

After taking out a lone walker as it shuffled over fallen leaves and dead sticks on the damp ground, they reach a small one-story house set within the trees across the street from the shooter on the roof. Peering around the corner of the abandoned home, Rick sees a woman with long black hair standing on the front porch of the dilapidated house, on lookout with a shotgun in her arms and a nervous swivel of her head.

The man on the roof continues to fire randomly at windows while his partner in the tower wreaks havoc on the solar panels. As he lines up the sight on the shotgun for more target practice with the windows, another crack splits the night and a spray of dirt and shingle bursts off the corner of the roof to the man's right.

"That's it Sasha," Rick murmurs. "Give him something to think about."

"So how'd you wanna do this?" Daryl asks, squatting low next to Rick.

"This angle sucks, we're gonna have to get closer to get the asshole on the roof. But we get him first then sneak around the back of the tower to get his friend."

Though the majority of the building was demolished from fire or walkers or warfare, the tower still stands to provide guardianship over Alexandria. The fact that the survivors hadn't been taking advantage of that in order to protect themselves gets Rick's blood bubbling once again and he pulls a deep calming breath to focus on his objective.

"What about the girl?" Daryl asks as the woman in question flinches severely with her entire body after a flash of lightning is immediately followed by a crash of thunder, causing her to take a step further back beneath the overhang.

"Can you take her out from here?"

"It's been a few days, but yeah, I shouldn't be that rusty."

Rick lets Daryl take his position at the corner and watches the hunter step out from the wall with the crossbow lifted to his eye, his sight on the dark haired girl.

"Shit," Rick curses softly but angrily as he looks back toward the woods they had just come out of.

"What the fuck?" Daryl steps back behind the house without taking the shot.

"Stupid little prick," the sheriff mutters as Aiden Monroe walks out from behind a very old tree, walking tall and cocky with a pistol held casually at his side as he heads toward them.

Rick hears a barrage of gunfire from Sasha's rifle as he walks purposefully toward Deanna's son, pulling a knife from his belt when he nears the young man in a few long, livid strides.

"Woah, man. Take it easy." Aiden lifts his gun toward Rick in a purely defensive stance, the weapon wavering indecisively.

Rick draws his knife back with his strong right arm while his left hand grabs Aiden's wrist and yanks it hard to the side, bringing the young man to his knees as he drives the blade down into the forehead of a badly decomposing female, stopping her mid-shuffle with her bony arms and bloodstained fingers stretched out just inches from Aiden's back.

Turning back to Deanna's son as the young man regains his footing, Rick rounds on Aiden and grabs his tee shirt in one furious fist. "I thought I told you to stay inside!" Rick says in a thunderous whisper, his entire body rigid with restrained anger. "What the fuck are you doing out here?!"

"I can help."

"How? By bringing the walkers right to us? No thanks," Daryl says dryly as he comes up behind his partner.

"I'm a good shot. Let me take him out. That's Zach up there and I hate that son of a bitch." Aiden points to the rooftop across the street as they slink back to the corner of the abandoned house.

Even whispering, the cockiness in the kid's voice grates on Rick but he buries his frustration with an almost audible glower and focuses on the dire situation. "You know him? How can you tell from this angle?"

"That's Lisa on the porch so the guy on the roof is gonna be her boyfriend Zachary or his brother Dillon. I'd put money on Zach 'cause Dillon was afraid of heights, no way he'd get up there like that."

"They're the ones your mom exiled," Rick says, forming his own conclusion at the mention of two men and one woman. Of course they would come back for revenge, he thinks, cursing the incompetent leadership of the community as his thumb and forefinger pinch the bridge of his nose.

"Yeah, Dillon was after the Jensen's daughter and he wouldn't take no for an answer. She lost her boyfriend last year but wanted nothing to do with Dillon or his brother. It got ugly so Mom made them leave," Aiden informs them with a smug gleam in his eye as the rain picks up to soak the earth with a steady shower.

"And she really thought they'd just walk away. Christ," Rick exhales with a shake of his head as exasperation seeps through his pores. "Alright, Daryl, let's do this."

"Wait, what about me?" Aiden asks as Daryl moves to peer around the edge of the house.

"Just stay down, shut the fuck up and be our lookout for more walkers," Rick orders firmly, leaving no room for debate. "Think you can handle that?" he adds snidely with a tilt of his head.

"Fine. Yeah, I can handle it," Aiden replies with a scowl which Rick ignores.

"Daryl, I'm gonna go around that house to get a better angle," the sheriff says with a nod toward the small house to the right of the one they are currently crouching behind. "Count to fifteen then take the shot. I'll run across to get Zach." Rick taps a brotherly pat on Daryl's shoulder then shoots a warning glare to Aiden before dashing to the house next door.

As Lisa falls to the planks of the porch with a solid thud, the slim bolt protruding from her sallow cheek, Rick races into the street and fires his weapon, catching Zachary in his shoulder just a fraction of a second after a small orange light is thrown from the roof of the derelict house. _What the fuck?!_

* * *

Sasha pauses with her finger on the trigger of her rifle as she sees a long flame follow a small object before it lands on the roof of the house across from her. From her vantage point, she watches helplessly as the Molotov cocktail rolls down the pitch of the upper roof and then tumbles over to the first tier to come to rest against the gutter, leaving a trail of burning shingles in its wake.

"Michonne!"

"I'll get them!" the dark woman answers after seeing the quickly spreading flames herself.

A few minutes later the whole roof is ablaze as Sasha fires several rounds at the enemy to cover Michonne as she leads the family of three out of the home that has finally failed to protect them.

As they run toward the safety of the clinic next door, Sasha's breath catches when a shot rings out and she sees Sheila Jensen fall to the wet ground, her husband nearly tripping over her from the sudden interruption of their flight.

A moment later Aaron is at Sheila's side, getting an arm beneath her shoulder as Dean Jensen lifts his wife to her feet while yelling for Michonne to get their daughter Kerry into the clinic.

Sasha can see Sheila's head moving, probably in pain and fear but at least she is alive, though dragging her left leg as a dark stain spreads across the left hip of her white slacks. She sends another barrage of cover fire toward the two shooters, taking pieces of cement and wood until the men have Sheila safely inside the clinic.

* * *

Rick hears Zach roll with a shrieking curse down the pitch and over the gutter, landing hard in the litter strewn yard after failing to get a grip on the metal drainage system. He runs past the porch, not sparing more than an ounce of guilt for the dead girl lying at the top of the stairs and focuses instead on the bastard with the shotgun. He rounds the corner cautiously, vaguely aware of movement to his left as Daryl and Aiden fight off a pair of walkers across the street.

Finding the man holding his blood-soaked shoulder while trying to catch the breath that had been knocked out of him, Rick quickly brings the butt of his pistol down on Zach's temple, coldcocking him into unconsciousness and then driving the knife through his forehead to make sure he'll never hurt anyone again.

 _Two down, one to go._ He ducks back to the front of the house to stay hidden from Dillon who seems to be busy shooting at the burning home on the other side of the wall. Making his way around the house to come up behind the tower, Rick pauses when he sees Daryl standing in the road with his crossbow aimed at another pair of walkers advancing slowly toward them.

"I got 'em, go take care of that asshole!" Daryl says as he pulls the trigger to send an arrow straight into the open, putrid mouth of a former surgeon, his ragged scrubs stained with much more vile substance than a single surgery would harvest.

Rick continues on as his partner rips the arrow from the rotting skull of the former doctor and drives it into the cloudy eye of an elderly man whose arthritic hands flail and then fall as his second life is finally snuffed out of him.

Sprinting to the burnt-out structure of what is left of the house on the corner lot, he races past it and stops to take cover behind a rusted old Plymouth lying dormant in the sodden grass. As the rain collects in an opened filthy brown suitcase amid an array of trash and debris, and soaks the stuffing of a ramshackle sofa where it sits upended next to an overgrown hedge, Rick stays low and runs unseen to the edge of the rubble covering the destroyed first floor of the white building directly behind the tower. With the frequent rumbles of thunder and steady hum of the driving rain helping to mask his movements, he steps around a pile of charred beams, bricks and two-by-fours to reach a cleared path leading toward the staircase and up to the lookout. Holding the Colt at eyelevel with a finger on the trigger, he ascends quietly, cautiously.

After only a few steps, he reaches a landing and steps up quickly, straightening his arm out in front of him, elbow locked with his finger ready to fire as his back presses flat against the wall. With no threat directly in front of him, he advances up the taller staircase toward the next landing. When the rain slows momentarily, he hears the clear metallic scrapes of a rifle being reloaded and moves faster to take advantage of the snipers preoccupation.

When Rick steps onto the next landing, he turns to see the gunman standing on the platform at the top of the stairs just as the bolt of the rifle is slid back and locked into place.

In the same instant that Rick is spotted and the muzzle raised at his chest, the trigger of the colt python is pressed and a flash of lightning brightens the gloomy interior of the tower to highlight a thin young man with shaggy blond hair as he is pitched back against the cement wall, his throat erupting with dark red blood that gushes down his wiry chest.

The rifle is dropped to the concrete floor in a clatter to rival the thunder as the gunman claws at his neck and gurgles for breath.

Ignoring the intense burning pain in his left side just above his hip where a twenty-two caliber bullet tore through his jacket and shirt to take a small hunk of flesh from his body, Rick quickly ascends the last section of stairs to finish his job.

Unless the shadows are deceiving as they are sometimes wont to be, the intruder can't be more than eighteen or nineteen years old and Rick feels a sickening twist in his gut as adrenaline churns with anger and pity. Swallowing back a mouthful of remorse, he aims the pistol at the kid's head and pulls the trigger once more, putting him out of their misery for good.

 _Fuck._ With an arm across his abdomen, he leans against the cold cement of the wall and takes a much needed breath, pulling moist air into his lungs and fighting the pain that pierces his side with every breath he draws.

Before he can assess how badly he is wounded, the sound of a painful scream resonates through the pouring rain and freezes the sweat on the back of his neck.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N Sorry for the delay with this chapter. I was away on a much needed vacation (and now I'm even more exhausted). Thanks again to those who took the time to leave a review – it is enormously appreciated!**

* * *

A boom of thunder echoes through the tower loft drowning out the cries from the yard below. Rick pushes away from the cement wall, blocking out his own pain with another surge of adrenaline and crosses the floor to the opposite window. Looking out beyond the hedge, he sees Glenn, Maggie and Daryl fighting what is quickly becoming a small herd in the intersection by the corner lot. Glancing to their right, he sees Aiden getting to his feet and stumbling away from the headless body of a walker, its mouth still moving where the head lies next to its bony hip.

"Fuck!" Rick runs out of the tower, pausing only to grab Dillon's rifle and slip it over his left shoulder as he descends the narrow steps. Making his way out of the rubble, he takes the walkie from his belt and presses the button. "Sasha! The shooters are down but we've got trouble with walkers. We need you and Michonne up here now!" he yells, emphasizing the last word. He releases the button and hears a 'Copy that' come thru the static in Sasha's voice.

Racing around the hedge, he nearly runs into Aiden as the young man staggers against the rusty Plymouth, a trembling hand covering the side of his neck as dark red blood mixes with the rain as it oozes through his fingers to fall in rivulets down his wrist.

"Aiden!" Rick grabs the young man's shoulder to get him to focus through the shock of being bitten. "Can you make it to the clinic yourself?" he asks between his own heavy breaths.

"I think so, but what's the point?" Aiden asks as tears of hopeless despair wash away any trace of conceit that had existed there.

Rick looks at him with genuine sorrow, seeing the scared kid that had been hiding behind a thick veneer of arrogance. "Go see your parents," he says softly. _Let them say goodbye_. The words go unspoken but Aiden nods in understanding, wincing at the movement. "Sasha's coming to open the gate. Get to the clinic, Aiden." Rick squeezes his shoulder firmly and then nudges him in the direction of the gate before hurrying off toward the intersection to help the others.

Less than a minute later, while pulling his knife from the ear of a walking corpse, Rick hears the clink and grind of the heavy gate as it is slid across its metal frame. He looks over to see Michonne and Sasha leading Aaron and a small group of Alexandrians through the opening, weapons at the ready. He looks forward just in time to prevent a gnarly hand from grasping Daryl's shoulder, pushing it away and sinking his knife into its wretched wet skull. The force of the blow takes him down with the walker and he lands hard in the mud next to the beast. Breathing heavily, he gets to his feet and turns to help Daryl as three more walkers approach from the left.

"Yer bleedin'," Daryl says as he kills the first threat. "You scratched?" he asks thickly as a marble of distress gets caught in his throat for the rare occurrence of such an emotion.

"No, I took a bullet in the tower. Just a graze." Rick answers quickly before taking out the second walker and thinking that this could've been a lot worse if not for the thunder attracting the walkers in all different directions.

Both men turn toward the third walker with their knives ready, only to step back as Michonne's katana slices through the air to decapitate the filthy creature. While a dozen armed humans fight the herd on the ground in a gory battle of survival, Mother Nature pitches in and drowns the fire that is attempting to devour the Jensen's home.

* * *

The rain has picked up significantly as Abraham climbs down from the big pick-up truck with the rest of the crew that had been collecting panels to expand the territory of Alexandria. Walking toward the gate, the smell of fire is thick in the humid air as a cloud of dark smoke rises like a cumulus omen on the other side of the wall.

He sees more than a handful of walkers sprawled on the ground by the decrepit house and at least two dozen others littering the intersection at the next block, their soaked, tattered clothes sticking to their emaciated frames. Glancing over his shoulder at the body of a woman lying face-up on the porch with one arm hanging down over the steps along with a cascade of long dark hair, Abraham pauses mid-stride and turns to get a better look. While most of the corpses are worn and weathered from two years of scratching out a monstrous existence on this godforsaken planet, aside from the gaping bloody wound disfiguring her left cheek, her complexion, while pale, is still that of a recently living human being. _What in holy hell happened here?_

* * *

Rick stands at the window, looking out over the shadows of the pond as the rain continues to batter its usually smooth surface while the whirlwind of controlled chaos finally begins to subside in the operating room behind him. As the sedative finally takes hold of Sheila's injured body and her cries of agony have diminished to a dull moan before she is dragged all the way down into a blissful sleep, Rick sees a dark bulky mass moving up the street toward the clinic and knows that only one man can fill that form; Abraham.

He assumes that the man had gone to the house first and gotten an earful from Carol, learning about everything that had happened that day from what he himself had told her when he checked on them before coming back to the clinic.

A few moments later the front door bursts open and an angry, dripping soldier steps into the small hospital. Rick watches him look around the candlelit room at all the faces that have turned toward the sound of his arrival and then move purposefully toward the smaller bed between the fireplace and an oak desk covered with medical manuals.

The big man stops at the foot of the bed and looks down at the still form of Eugene, his hands balled into tight fists as he watches his friend's chest rise and fall evenly above the large bandage covering his right thigh.

"Hey, he's alright, he's just sleeping off the painkillers," Rick tells him in a hushed voice reserved for hospital wards as he steps around the desk. "Peter patched him up good, he's gonna be fine." Abraham gives him a heated look and Rick takes a deep breath, taking in a lungful of oxygen to brace himself for another battle.

"This is your fault, _constable_ ," the soldier says with bitter venom, lacing the title with a malicious sneer.

"How do you figure that?" Rick asks, squaring his shoulders while ignoring the ache in his side and fighting the fatigue that is trying to overtake his muscles.

"If you worried about doing your fucking job instead of chasing a piece of ass, he wouldn't be ly-"

Rick's fist connects with Abraham's jaw in a flash of blind fury that spurs a quicksilver reaction. As the big man staggers back from the force of the blow, he slips in the puddle that had formed beneath his work boots and falls to the floor, landing next to the sheriff who lies unconscious while a thicker puddle forms beneath him from the blood seeping through his clothes.

* * *

"Rick!" Kate almost drops the small surgical tray, righting it just in time to catch the bloodied bullet falling from the forceps held tightly in Peter's gloved hand.

She had been concentrating on the steady beat of Sheila's pulse as it thumped slowly but surely beneath her two fingers while Peter worked on removing the bullet from the woman's hip. She would steal occasional glimpses of Rick where he'd stood by the window, leaning against the frame like his body was too tired to hold itself upright.

He looked a wreck with his dark hair drying in unruly waves as his clothes stuck to his body, the rainwater soaking through his jacket and plastering the gray material of his uniform to his skin. He'd said he wasn't hurt so she tried to ignore the spatters of blood and gore on his neck that the rain hadn't reached to wash away, but the worn out look in his usually bright eyes didn't make it easy to focus solely on the patient in front of her.

She had wanted to go to him, hold him dearly and feel his arms around her, breathe in his masculine scent and know in her soul that he was really okay. When she glanced across the room between the beats inside of Sheila's thin wrist, she saw him straighten at the sound of the front door opening. A thread of apprehension creased her brows when she saw him wince as he pushed away from the window.

"Shine the light a little to the right for me, Aaron," Peter instructed and his other assistant shifted the flashlight slightly. "How's her pressure, Kate?"

Peter's voice wove into her worried thoughts of Rick, steering her attention back to Sheila. "Uh, fine," she had answered. "A little low but not too bad."

While maintaining a solid grip on her patient's wrist, she couldn't help but notice Abraham and Rick in her peripheral view at the foot of Eugene's bed.

And now, after hearing a few muddled words exchanged between the two men, they are both lying on the floor; one cursing a blue streak, the other much too silent.

Kate abstractedly releases one slowly pulsing wrist and thrusts one rectangular metal tray into Aaron's surprised hand. She rushes over to Rick, ignoring the hulking redhead at his side. "Rick, honey, can you hear me?" She strokes his pale cheek with one hand while feeling for the vein in his neck with the other.

"Talk to me, Kate," Peter calls to her as he begins to close Sheila's wound with sterile sutures.

"His pulse is weak and he's unresponsive," Kate reports with a heavy tremor in her professional voice. She carefully turns Rick onto his back and pushes his jacket to the side to reveal a patch of wet material above his left hip that is several shades darker than the rest of his rain-soaked shirt.

Pulling the tail of his shirt up and out of his jeans, she finds a small hole oozing blood just above his belt. "He was shot! Oh, God. I've got a GSW on the left side of his abdomen."

"Dean, help Kate carry him to the back bed while I finish with Sheila," Peter orders calmly but forcefully and the man quickly emerges from the back room, leaving his daughter alone with her gnawed on fingernails.

Kate quickly unbuttons Rick's shirt with trembling fingers. "You stupid, stubborn man," she murmurs under her breath as a large lump lodges itself in her throat while unshed tears gather thickly behind her eyes. "You should've told me."

* * *

"He's gonna be okay, you know."

"Yeah, uh huh. I'm sure he will be, Carl."

"Really, Kate, he will be. Just wait."

"God, I wish I could believe you."

"Trust me. After everything he's been through, nothing has killed him yet. It'll take more than one bullet to take down my Dad."

 _Damn straight, son. You tell her._ Rick tries to form the words on his tongue but the muscles connecting his brain and his mouth aren't cooperating to allow him to join the conversation. Their voices sound far away and Kate's is tinged with copious amounts of anxiety and fear, making him try that much harder to speak. _Don't worry, honey. I'm okay. I'm not going anywhere. My head's just a little fuzzy right now._ He thinks he laughs but he's not sure. It may have been a groan.

He focuses on his abdomen and registers a faint throbbing ache where he'd been shot. Not nearly as bad as it had been before so Peter must have gotten the bullet out and given him a healthy amount of painkillers which are doing a damn good job as they float throughout his bloodstream.

He opens his eyes to see a glimpse of the shadowy ceiling before they flutter closed again. Christ, his lids are heavy. Once more he swims for the surface and gets them only halfway open before they shut the world out once again.

"Rick? Rick, can you hear me? Open your eyes honey. Oh God, please open your eyes."

Her voice fades even further away as he folds the blanket of morphine over his exhausted body and snuggles back into oblivion.

* * *

The smell of burning candles fills his nostrils as Rick turns his head to the left. The cobwebs have cleared and he sees Kate's beautiful face in the soft glowing light as she sleeps curled up in an armchair next to the bed. Looking beyond her, he sees a shadowy Carl stretched out on a gurney on the far wall of the small room. A light rain patters a soothing tempo on the roof enveloping them inside what feels like the deepest part of the night.

He watches them in the nocturnal stillness for several minutes, exhaling evenly with the steady rhythm of his son's soft snore. He reaches over to touch the hand curled beneath Kate's chin, lightly tracing a line from her bony knuckle to her wrist and across her forearm.

She lifts her head slowly and drops her hand into her lap to be scratched by its partner. Rick watches her shift in the chair to rest her head against the back cushion. A moment later she takes a couple of swallows of the night air and wilts back to a hunched position with her chin cradled on her hand once again. He smiles at her peaceful innocence and thanks the Powers That Be that he is alive to witness it.

When he touches her hand a few minutes later, she opens her eyes slowly and stares into his searchingly, as if trying to comprehend the truth of what her eyes are showing her.

"Hi," he whispers softly, forcing the single word past his extremely dry throat.

"Hi. Oh my God, hi." Kate unfolds her legs and leans forward to lay a hand on his stubbled jaw. "How do you feel?"

"Never better," he replies with a lopsided grin as he takes her hand and moves it to his mouth, kissing her palm.

"Rick, don't lie to me." Her face crumbles and she squeezes her eyes shut. When she opens them again they are glistening with tears that flood his heart.

"Hey, hey, hey. I'm fine, honey. Really." He pushes himself up on his elbow to reach out and caress her cheek, wincing slightly with the effort.

"Why didn't you tell me how badly you were hurt? When I asked if you were okay, why didn't you tell me the truth?" She implores with quivering lips as a tear slips from the corner of her eye.

He wipes the moisture from her cheekbone and leans forward, reducing the space between them. "You were busy with Sheila and I wasn't that bad, I knew I could wait."

"You _were_ that bad, Rick. We almost lost you." Her throat clogs with emotion and she barely gets the last word out, giving him a different kind of stabbing pain in his gut.

"Ah, Kate. Come here, sweetheart." He lifts the blanket that rests on his hip and shimmies over in the bed, careful not to disturb the bandage covering his wound.

She climbs into the bed and he pulls her body to his until she is resting her cheek against his bare chest, just above his steadily beating heart.

"Don't do that to me again. Ever." She drapes her arm over his hip and he feels her fingertips gliding along the small of his back, the effect better than any drug Peter could have given him.

"I'm sorry, honey. I won't lie to you again." He presses his lips to the top of her head and takes a deep breath of the fragrance that is all Kate; strawberries and spring flowers with just a hint of disinfectant. "How are the others? Eugene and Sheila?"

"They're okay. Sheila's sleeping in the other room but Abraham took Eugene back to their house."

"Abraham," Rick mutters with disdain. "I'll have a talk with him in the morning."

"Michonne already laid into him and I think he did feel bad after he saw how badly you were hurt."

"He still shouldn't have said what he did."

"It was something about me, wasn't it? He couldn't even look at me after your surgery."

"Don't worry about it."

"Hey, no more lies, remember?"

"Sorry." He kisses her head to accentuate the apology. "Yeah he said something about me not focusing on my job."

"Oh," she says softly, disheartened. "I guess I have been distracting you lately."

"You're not, Kate. I haven't stopped doing my job since we got here and I will continue to do my damnedest to keep you and the others safe," he promises as he pulls her even tighter against him, gaining strength from her presence within his tired arms.

"Behind these walls, you forget that the walkers aren't the only monsters out there," she whispers against the wiry hairs on his chest.

"The walkers are the least of our problems these days. We can't ever forget that. How's Aiden by the way?"

"He's still upstairs with his folks. Tobin's with them now too, to… take care of things."

"Good. I don't think Reg could do it."

"Do you blame him?" Kate asks almost accusingly.

"Not at all. Just because your mind tells you it's the right thing to do, your heart makes it impossible to pull the trigger," he replies mournfully, thinking of his old friend whose heart wouldn't let him do what needed to be done… until it was too late.

Holding her close, he tells her about Morgan and his family as the candlewax drips and the shadows continue to dance through the heart of the night.

And when the darkness gives way to the dawn's early blush and the first notes can be heard from nature's symphony of birdsong, a single shot rings out, echoing sadly through the clinic from an upstairs bedroom.


	9. Chapter 9

Rick sits on a stool in the small modern kitchen of the big house scratching his latest scar which is now three weeks old. His black jeans and white tee shirt are adorned with splotches of orange baby food from his efforts of trying to get Judith to eat her lunch.

With everyone out doing their assigned jobs and Carl hanging out with his new friends before the afternoon school session, the house is quiet except for the sheriff's pleading words to the little girl slouched in the high chair that is pulled up next to the island. "Come on, Judy. Just a little more."

Judith turns her tear-stained face at the sound of the front door opening and he inadvertently paints her cheek orange with the creamy food. "Hey, Carol," Rick says with a slight frown as he wipes Judy's face with a napkin.

"Hey you two."

"How was work at the pantry this morning?" Rick asks with a fresh spoonful ready to slip into his daughter's mouth.

Carol closes the door behind her and joins them the kitchen. "It was good. The guys brought back a ton of supplies last night." She sets a grocery bag on the counter next to the sink and turns back around to place a tender kiss on the top of Judy's fair hair as the baby swallows a mouthful of goop from Gerber. "I just wish Daryl didn't have to leave so soon already."

"I know. But we need those solar panels desperately."

"Yeah, but it still sucks. How was our Li'l Asskicker this morning? Feeling any better?" she asks with a warm caress down the back of Judy's head.

"Still cranky but at least she's eating now."

"Listen, I'm making lasagna tonight and there will be plenty. Why don't you ask Kate and Josh to join us? I'm sure they've come to love tofu as much as the rest of us," she says with a slight smirk.

Rick glances up at Carol with an answering smirk of his own as he measures her words carefully.

When he doesn't answer for a few moments, she continues, "I know you have your routine of eating over there every other night, but she might like to come here occasionally too."

"You don't think anyone would mind?" he asks skeptically.

"Of course not, honey. We all adore her," she says while restocking the cabinets with supplies from the pantry.

Rick gives her a dubious look as he drops the baby spoon into the empty jar with a series of melodic plinks.

"Okay, Abraham may not 'adore' her but he likes her well enough now since she pulled that metal splinter from his hand last week," she says, pointing a long box of spaghetti at him before placing it in a cabinet.

"Are we eating here tonight or next door?"

"Here. I offered to cook since Rosita and Tara made the stew last night."

"Alright. If we're eating here, I'll ask them to come. Thanks, Carol."

"You know," she pauses, stretching on tiptoe to set a can of soup on the top shelf. "If you wanted to just move in with her on a permanent basis, you could still come over and have dinner with us a few nights a week. We're not going anywhere, Rick, and neither is she. So maybe it's time to stop sneaking into the house every day at the crack of dawn. Really, sweetie, you aren't fooling anybody."

"But Carl-,"

"Carl knows your routine better than anyone. He's just waiting for you to stop dragging your feet so he can move in with Josh."

"He told you that?" Rick asks with his eyebrows nearly hitting his hairline.

"In so many words, yes. I think he's still not used to having his own bedroom and would like the company."

"I know he still has nightmares but they're getting less frequent. And what about Judith?"

"You'll bring her over here every afternoon. I'll watch her while you make your rounds, just like we've been doing. Nothing has to change, Rick. Except maybe you'll sleep later," she adds with a warm smile.

"I don't know, Carol."

"You do not have to feel guilty for leaving us. You're not abandoning us, honey, you're just moving forward, as you should be. Hell, if anyone has a right to be happy – it's you. And she makes you happy so don't let anything hold you back from that. After everything you've done for us, I think we can let you move three doors down."

Silence stretches between them for a few moments until Rick clears his throat. "Yeah, it's really not that big a deal, right?"

"No. It is a very big deal, sweetheart, but for us – it's only a few hundred feet."

* * *

After spending a nice evening with Rick's large family the night before, Kate is delighted to have him to herself - more or less - once again. Standing at the kitchen sink with a sponge in one hand and a dinner plate in the other, she smiles as she hears him tease the boys as they set up a DVD in the living room.

Last night they'd enjoyed a lovely dinner, though be it a rather quiet meal considering the amount of people sitting around the dining room table and perched about the kitchen. The conversation was relaxed but sporadic and she didn't know if it stemmed from them savoring the food that they had gone so long without, or the fact that they are still so in tuned with each other that they continue to communicate almost wordlessly.

It was a remarkable thing to witness and she was honored to have been invited into the fold. Rick had seemed adorably nervous but they all made her feel welcome and she really had a lovely time. She had especially enjoyed teasing him with a bare foot rubbing provocatively against his calf as his knee bounced restlessly beneath the table. She remembers the way he had tilted his chin to fix her with a light warning glare, and then how he had taken a deep calming breath at the sight of her drawing in and releasing an exaggerated amount of air for his benefit.

She recalls the tender smile he gave her when he took her hand and squeezed it affectionately as he pulled it into his lap. It was that silly, insignificant moment that she realized that she loved him with every fiber of her being; every crevice of her broken heart, every notion of her terrified mind and every remote shadow of her lonely soul.

The thought had shaken her to her core, both completely terrifying and profoundly comforting all in a single breath. She'd squeezed his hand back, steadying herself as his knee ceased it's momentum in a race for a gold medal.

She returned his smile, knowing that this man was her partner in every sense of the word. He was her light in the darkness and the promise for a hopeful future in a fucked up world.

The warmth of his palm against hers was soothing in its familiarity and the strong foundation of his thigh beneath her wrist was reassuringly solid as she finished her meal one-handed.

Now, as her mind drifts to the way that muscular thigh had rubbed against her flesh as it parted her legs somewhere beyond midnight, a band of warmth spreads low in her belly as she imagines having him inside of her again, filling every inch of her body and soul as he moves over her in a sensual dance of carnal passion.

Getting lost in her erotic thoughts, her head tilts to the side as she absently scrubs a Corelle salad bowl. When she feels two large hands warming her shoulders, she straightens abruptly and nearly drops the slippery soaped-up dish.

"Hey." Rick presses a kiss to the back of her hair and she wipes a dripping finger across the base of her neck to cool her heated flesh.

"Hey. Everything all set up in there?" she asks a little too brightly as she tries to rearrange her stimulated mind.

"Yeah, they're watching 'Mall Cop'… again," he says as he picks up a dish towel and folds it over a glass from the drying rack.

"What about all the other movies that Aaron and Daryl brought back?" she asks, looking forward to snuggling up with Rick sometime to watch one of the romantic comedies she had seen in the slew of thin plastic cases covering the large table in Alexandria's library.

"They want to watch that again and then move onto 'Mission Impossible' and 'Night at the Museum'." He places the newly dried glass in the cabinet with its mates and pulls a bowl from the rack.

"Sounds like a long night."

"After all the running around they did today, I doubt either one will be conscious by the time Paul Blart finishes with them."

She chuckles at the memory of their impromptu soccer game on the northwest field. It was a small group of three on three but what they lacked in numbers, they made up for in unsportsmanlike insults and she hadn't heard Josh laugh so hard in a very long time. "Yeah, today was fun." She smiles at Rick as the sound of her son's laughter continues to echo warmly inside her heart.

"Yes, it was." He returns her smile briefly before giving her a stern look. "Except for the fact that you gave up four goals."

"Hey, the last two were not my fault. That freakin' snake practically attacked me and then Tara distracted me with the piece of black rope!"

"Excuses, excuses. I can't believe I'm in love with such a lousy goalie."

Kate flicks her fingers at him, sending a handful of droplets into his face. "I am not a lou-. Wait, what?"

"I said you're a lousy goalie," he teases, wiping his wet cheek against his shoulder.

"No, the other part." She shuts off the faucet and takes the towel from his hands as she turns to face him.

"What?" he asks innocently as he lays his hands on the curve of her hips and pulls her against his body. "That I'm in love with you?"

"You are?" she asks softly, the damp towel balled up in her fists as they lay against his chest.

He tilts his head as he smiles tenderly at her, eyes shining with cerulean adoration as he caresses the small of her back. "I am."

"Oh, honey, I love you too." She tosses the towel onto the table and wraps her arms around his shoulders. "I love you so much," she whispers into his neck as she hugs him fiercely, swallowing the small lump lodged in her throat as she presses her soft flesh into the hard plane of his chest.

His arms fold across her back and squeeze her tightly. "Thank God," he breathes against her hair before kissing his way from her temple to her jaw and across to her lips to claim her mouth in a fervent testimony of hope, desire and love.

* * *

Kate leans forward on the chaise lounge and stretches her arms above her head with a satisfied groan, freeing the kinks in her body that had twisted into knots as she lay curled beneath Rick's arm for the last two hours. She reaches for the remote control to stop the endless scroll of movie credits and feels Rick's fingertips against her lower back as they glance across the strip of bare skin beneath the hem of her red tee shirt. She turns off the DVD player and television, leaving them in gray shadows from the soft light filtering in from the recessed lighting beneath the kitchen cabinets.

As grateful as she is that her house is back on the power grid, she is even more thankful for the bond that Carl and Joshua have developed. She looks at the slim form of her son and the longer, lankier form of Carl where they lay side by side on the floor, heads resting together on one king sized pillow from upstairs. For a moment, she imagines another figure lying on the other side of Carl, a smaller, dirtier version of Josh that would have really liked Rick's son too. She swallows the lump in her throat and smiles at the sleeping boys before glancing over at Judith's round bottom protruding up from the center of the playpen against the wall.

She feels the cushion shift beneath her as Rick leans forward on the long chair, pressing a knee at either hip and rubbing his hands over her shoulders to help with the kinks. She drops her chin to her chest in listless relief and feels his warm breath tickling the downy hairs on her nape.

"I should probably wake him up now," Rick says, drawing his thumbs up and down the column of her neck.

"Or just throw a blanket over him and wake him up in the morning," she mumbles into her chest as her body melts under his hands.

"It's tempting." He replaces his hands with his lips at the top of her spine and weaves his arms around her middle.

"Do you really have to take them home?" she asks, laying her hands across his forearms and turning her head toward him. "Just let them sleep here tonight and you won't have to sneak out in the morning."

"Funny, I was just talking to Carol about that yesterday."

"What? Letting the kids sleep over?"

He looks at her somewhat shyly. After hesitating for a few moments he answers softly, "Moving in."

"Oh." She begins to smile but quickly smothers it for fear of getting her hopes up. She turns in her seat to face him squarely. "Do you want to?"

"Yeah… I do. If you'll have us."

She leans in to press her lips to his, her heart filled with joy at the thought of living with Rick and the kids on a permanent basis. "Of course we'll have you."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Many thanks to angelicedg, angie b and bluecrush611 for giving me such great feedback and encouragement. It really helps as I write the final few chapters… while waiting patiently for my issue of Entertainment Weekly magazine to arrive. I can't get enough of the Rickyl bromance and that one behind-the-scenes shot with their hands on each other's ass is just priceless! You will be getting another taste of the bromance before the end of this story but for now – here's some straight up romance for you to enjoy…**

* * *

An easterly wind cools the warm September evening as the setting sun casts long shadows across the pavement of Alexandria's quiet streets. After gathering the clothes and personal toiletries that they had collected over the last month while living behind these walls, Rick Grimes and his children move into their new house.

The prickly needles of the small juniper trees flanking the porch steps sway lightly in the breeze, offering a coniferous greeting as Kate holds the front door open, her bright smile warming the night as she welcomes them home.

Swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder, Carl follows Joshua up the stairs to the second floor, his smile nearly as wide as the one plastered on the younger boy's face. They settle into the room with the bunk beds as Kate stands in the doorway of the Redskins room, bouncing Judy on her hip to the tune of _'Dancing In The Dark'_ as they watch Rick set up another playpen for the little one.

When the moon hangs high from its heavenly chain and the board games are cleaned up and put away for another night, Kate stands at her dresser in her pink sleep shirt and black underwear, brushing her long hair into a loose ponytail. She lays the brush on the bureau and secures her hair with a rubberband as Rick enters the bedroom behind her. In the light of a small bedside lamp, she watches his reflection in the mirror as he closes and locks the door, then turns to her with a look of exhausted defeat clouding his cerulean eyes.

Wearing dark gray sweatpants and nothing else, he comes up behind her and rests his whiskered jaw against her shoulder as his arms fold across her belly, pulling her back against his hard body as their eyes meet in the mirror.

"She's finally down?" Kate asks rhetorically, knowing he wouldn't be here if Judith wasn't finally asleep. "Poor thing. Hopefully those teeth will break through soon."

"Yeah, for all our sakes. Come here." With a strong hand on her hip, Rick turns her to face him and she laces her arms across his broad shoulders as he buries his face in her neck. "Are you sorry you invited us to move in?" he asks against her jaw as he wraps his arms tightly around her back.

"Absolutely not. I knew what I was getting myself into." She tilts her head to find his mouth for a quick kiss as her fingers thread through his dark hair. "Having you in my bed all night without having to say goodbye before the crack of dawn? Mmmm… it's going to be so nice to wake up with you tomorrow."

He squeezes her fervently. "Yes, it is. And what do you plan on doing with me in the meantime?" he asks suggestively, clutching her ass and pressing his growing arousal against her midsection.

"Oh, I think maybe I'll start here and work my way down." She presses her lips to the stubble at the corner of his mouth as she traces light circles around his nipple with her fingertips.

"Mmm…, I like that idea."

Kissing the base of his throat, her fingers close in and gently twist the small nub until it pebbles tightly. Moving downward, she presses her lips to the small pale circle of puckered skin near his left nipple before flicking her tongue over the tight bud while continuing to twist the other one.

"Mmmm…"

"That feel good?" she croons softly against his chest.

"Yeah."

"Want me to go lower?"

"Oh yeah."

She leans over to kiss his upper belly as her finger plays with his navel. "Here?"

"Lower," he moans, caressing the back of her neck.

Crouching lower, she glides her tongue over his abdomen to reach another circle of furrowed skin at his hip, slightly redder with recent healing. She presses her lips reverently to its surface. After swallowing a small lump in her throat, she gets down to her knees and dips her tongue into his navel while her hands rest on the soft material of the sweatpants covering his hips. "Here?" she teases.

"Here," he groans, nearly growling as he takes her hand and moves it to cover his hard-on.

"Ahhh, there." She closes her fist around his length through the loose pants and moves languidly up and down along his shaft while pressing wet kisses to his belly.

"Oh yeah."

Releasing him a few moments later, she slips her fingertips into the waistline of his pants and slides them down over his long legs until he steps out of them. She traces her hands back up his calves, over the backs of his thighs and the curve of his ass until she reaches the hem of his boxer briefs. With her cheek just centimeters from his arousal, she drags his shorts down to free his steely erection.

Circling the base of his shaft with her thumb and forefinger, she fondles the weight of his sac with her remaining fingers as her tongue skates faintly over the smooth bulb of his impressive cock, eliciting a deep moan from his chest. She blows cool air against his sensitive skin before the tip of her tongue probes the small hole in the center. Taking him between her lips, she glides down over his thickness until he is nearly hitting the back of her throat.

"Nnnn, fuck yeah." He pulls the rubberband from her hair, releasing the long, dark tresses to cascade over his fingers as his large hands cradle her head. "Christ, that feels good."

"Mmmm," she purrs against his shaft as her hand follows the path of her mouth as she takes him in again and again, twisting and squeezing slightly every time she reaches the ridge.

Moving her hand down, she massages his nuts again, rolling the marble-like organs inside his tightening sac. Steadying her hand, she presses her palm up against his balls as one long finger rubs over his perineum. His cock twitches inside her mouth and his hands tighten around her head in the millisecond it takes for the oddly pleasurable sensation to travel the nerve path from his nuts to his knuckles.

"Christ, what are you doing to me?"

"Playing," she says, gliding her tongue along his length and pressing down on the small rough patch of skin behind his balls once again.

"Fuck," he groans as her touch sends another jolt of electricity throughout his body.

"Do you like it?" she asks, caressing the spot lightly.

"No. Yeah. Fuck, I don't know."

She presses down again with the pad of her finger and his whole body jerks in response.

"Jesus, Kate. Come here." Circling her wrists, he pulls her up to her feet. "I'm gonna have to find a safe place for these hands."

"Too bad you left your handcuffs downstairs." She smiles at him sweetly, all innocent seduction glimmering in her eyes as he holds her wrists together between their bodies.

"So we'll improvise." Rick reaches past her toward the dresser and grabs the black tie that he wears with his uniform. He loops the garment around her wrists several times and secures it with a knot that a sailor would be proud of. "How does that feel?"

"Kinda sexy," she replies softly, wiggling the tips of her fingers against his chest as she bites her lower lip. She watches Rick's eyes grow impossibly dark and an instant later his mouth is covering hers, forcing her to part her lips at the urgency of his tongue. The searing kiss takes her breath away and sends a fluttering spike straight to the crux of her thighs. She begins to lift her arms to embrace his shoulders and immediately remembers the tie when her hands refuse to part. _Oh God, what have I done?_ She moans into his mouth at the heady notion that she is completely at his mercy.

He breaks the kiss with a moan of his own and looks down at her, eyes smoldering with fiery desire. "Are you ready?"

Kate nods her head slowly, breathless from his kiss and from the anticipation of what's to come. "Yes."

Bending down, Rick wraps one arm around her thighs and the other around her back and lifts her up like a bride. He carries her to the bed, rests one knee on the edge and lays her down gently in the center.

Heart dancing wildly in her chest, she watches him lift her hands to his mouth, kissing each knuckle softly before bringing her bound wrists over her head to secure the loose end of the tie to the geometric design of the headboard.

"Okay?" he asks, caressing her jaw with his thumb.

"Yeah. I love you."

He tilts his head with genuine sincerity in his eyes. "I love you too, honey." He leans over and captures her mouth, slipping his tongue inside for a brief dance before dragging his lips over her jaw and down her neck. "I love you so much."

Kate feels his fingers at the hem of her shirt, skimming underneath the soft fabric and sliding over her smooth skin. They glide up her abdomen to caress the rise of her bosom as he continues to pepper kisses along her neck and collarbone. He skates a thumb across her nipple and she arches her back to fill his hand with more flesh. She squirms beneath his ministrations, pulling at the material binding her wrists. "Oh God, I want to touch you."

"Soon enough, baby." Shifting over her body, he spreads her legs with his knee and settles between her thighs, the thin black panties soft against his chest as he pushes her tee shirt up to press his mouth to her flat belly. Leaning up on his elbows, he pushes her shirt farther up, over her chest to expose her bare breasts in the soft lamplight. "God, you're beautiful."

He teases her flesh with light flicks of his tongue and small nibbles with his teeth, with soft strokes of his fingertips and bold caresses with his palms. The pressure of his chest against her groin amplifies his erotic ambush of her breasts and she writhes in agonizing pleasure beneath his touch, desperate to have her hands on him but loving every zesty second of her imprisonment.

When her nerve endings are overwhelmed with stimuli and she is about to beg for mercy in the form of being fucked into tomorrow, he shifts lower on the bed and then her panties are being drawn down her legs and off of her feet. A moment later, two large hands are spreading her wide open, his lips warm on her heated flesh as he works his way from her inner thigh to her velvety pleats with gentle bites and soft licks.

"Oh God, Rick. Please…"

He swipes his tongue along the length of her opening and then focuses on her clit, swirling and sipping the enflamed nubbin as he fits two long fingers into her center. In a matter of seconds, a lightning storm of sensation ignites the neurons coursing through her body and she bites her lip to keep from screaming his name.

With her legs still quivering with aftershocks, he moves up her body and lifts her hips to his erection. In one fluid lunge, he drives deep into her center, filling her completely; mind, body and soul.

She can't help but cry out and he covers her mouth with his, silencing her with the thrust of his tongue as he rattles her soul with the thrust of his cock.

After a few minutes of driving, diving, pulling and plunging, he curses under his breath and slows his pace, drawing out their union. Balancing on his left elbow, he reaches beneath her with his right hand and squeezes her ass, hard.

He slowly pulls her up along his shaft until she locks her ankles around his back.

Holding himself against the deepest part of her, he rubs his thumb over her swollen clit, skimming through the slick heat as she arches her back and digs her heels into his ass, searching for a release that only he can provide.

Climbing the far side of heaven and nearly reaching the summit, she groans when he suddenly removes his thumb and leans back on his knees, pulling out of her midway. With a firm grip on the bedframe behind her, she flexes her thighs and presses her calves against his lower back in an effort to bring him all the way back home.

"Hang on, baby. We're almost there." He leans back and takes hold of her ankles, bringing them forward to rest on his shoulders. Leaning toward her, he places his left hand on the mattress to support his weight as his right hand grips her hip fervently as he begins to thrust once more.

He slams into her again and again and she tries to meet every stroke, but she can't think straight enough to match his rhythm with the deeper angle so she just holds onto the headboard, collecting every loving lunge he gives her with one singular thought in her muddled brain. "Yes!"

"Oh fuck, baby." When her walls clench around him, he lets her legs slip to the side and he falls forward, hugging her to his chest and swallowing her moans as he rides out his own orgasm.

When he finally stops moving against her, she lets go of the headboard and pulls desperately at the restraints. "Honey, please." She hates the whine lacing her voice but she can't help but beg to touch him at this point, feeling as if she would surely go mad if she can't hold him this very second.

Still gasping for breath, he reaches up and quickly unties the length of silky material from her wrists. As soon as her hands are free, they are over his shoulders and digging their blunt nails into his strong back, cherishing the feel of his skin against her fingertips as she floats down from the heavens on a current of immeasurable love.


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N Thanks again to my lovely reviewers - especially to my dearest Bluecrush! For those of you who aren't familiar with her work, you need to go check out an amazing Rick love story called Solace by bluecrush611. Like right now. Or after reading this latest chapter anyway. Enjoy...**

* * *

Stepping down off the porch, Rick shrugs his shoulders and pulls the zipper on his jacket a little further up against the chilly breeze as he begins his morning patrol.

He usually enjoys this quiet time while his neighbors are still inside eating breakfast or sleeping in, depending on their work schedule, but the past four days have been too quiet without Daryl walking at his side as he checks the perimeter of the neighborhood.

They had settled into a routine of walking the streets together each morning and again at sunset, reporting in with each other and just staying connected in their new living conditions. He knew Daryl wasn't comfortable within the walls at first, even more so than himself, but he'd made the sacrifice for his kids' sake and Rick will always be grateful for that. The beginning was a little rough for the hunter but like many animals that roam the earth, Daryl's feral soul has adapted to the new environment and he's adjusted well enough with the friendship of Aaron and Eric.

Rick trusts Aaron completely, but the fact that the two men have yet to return after four days makes him wish he had gone with them on this run. They knew it would be a long haul heading all the way down to Powhatan, just outside of Richmond, but Rick really thought they would be back by last night.

He rounds the corner at the front gate and waves up to Glenn and Maggie in the watch tower, keeping each other warm as they stand chest to chest while looking over the other's shoulder for signs of danger… and signs of Daryl.

"Still no word?" Rick calls up from his side of the fence, squinting into the rising sun with a hand against his eyebrow.

"Not yet," Glenn responds dolefully. "We'll let you know as soon as we hear anything."

"Thanks." He nods his head with a positive attitude but fails to keep the smile from slipping into a frown as walks away from the fence.

He knows better than anyone that things come up when you're on the road that can throw a monkey wrench into your plans. Time moves differently these days so he's not going to think the worst just because they are taking a little longer to get home. Still, he can't help but worry as he approaches the small cemetery by the old church at the northwest corner of the settlement.

Set back toward the fence near a small cluster of trees, four headstones stand solemnly in the soft morning light. He did not know these people, but he is reminded of many other graves he'd dug and a few he was unable to dig for his fallen family members over the past two years.

He thinks of Hershel and a thick ball of sorrow clogs his throat. If anyone deserved an honorable send-off with a big funeral production, it was his old farming buddy. The fact that they had to leave his body at the prison without a proper burial was just one of the regrets that Rick has had to live with.

He glances across the dirt of the graves to a large Beech tree standing tall and proud as her leaves sway in the wind, watching over the luckless victims as they lay in peace in their final resting place.

 _Hershel would have liked it here_. He looks up into the sky with all its glorious shades of pink and blue and swallows the lump as the birds sing their sunrise song from the treetops _. Hershel will like it here_ , he amends as he pulls a small knife from his belt and walks over to the noble Beech tree.

When he is finished, there are fourteen sets of initials surrounding the deeply etched HG on the southern face of the tree. He didn't memorialize every loss he knew personally - there wasn't enough room for them all, but he honored the ones who nicked a piece of his soul in their short lifetimes, digging the knife deepest for the ones whose loss he felt the most. He traces his fingertips over the profound LG next to the equally deep SW and sincerely hopes that Lori and Shane are taking care of each other in the afterlife, the _final_ afterlife that is.

Stepping back, he admires his handiwork and believes his friends will be happy inside these walls with him. Finally. He glances at the shallow MD on the end of the bottom row and wonders what Daryl will think when he sees the monument.

Rick had hated Merle and only added the man's initials in deference to Daryl, but now he raises his knife to the tree again and scratches the letters deeper in penance for cuffing him to that rooftop in Atlanta, and in gratitude for the sacrifice he'd made to help him and the others in their fight against the Governor. Yes, that man had most definitely nicked his soul.

Refusing to accept the possibility that he may have to carve Daryl's initials next to his brothers, he steps to another tree about fifteen feet away, identical in species but a little taller, a bit stronger.

He carves an RG, CG, and JG and stops to wipe the sweat from his brow before scoring two very deep D's into the gray wood, willing his friend's life to beat strongly in the breast of the tree. He continues etching strong lines and inherent curves until he's got everyone that walked through the gates of Alexandria with him; thirteen sets of letters next to his own.

When he's satisfied with his creation, he steps around to the back of the tree and adds a KH and JH for Kate and Josh. In his mind he cuts a heart around Kate's initials but in reality he leaves the bark surrounding the letters untouched. Smiling like a goofy teenager, he caresses the deep lines with his fingertips and then slips the knife back into its sheath. Walking away, his steps are light as he leaves the harmonious birds to watch over his memorial in the cool shade of his life affirming endeavor.

* * *

Aaron glances at the pretty colors reflecting in the side view mirror, many shades of red and purple filling the sky behind them as he drives east through Beaver Dam, Virginia. Admiring the sunset with all its glory in the eight inch glass, he inadvertently hits a pothole and the dusty Forest River Sunseeker bounces roughly along Verdon Road, about thirty five miles north of Richmond.

He grips the wheel and shifts his gaze to the rearview mirror above him, glancing at the boxes of solar panels filling the aisle of the old camper.

Seeing that they'd shifted only slightly, he gives Daryl a crooked smirk when the man meets his eyes and then turns his attention back to the road that they had cleared the day before.

It had taken them three days and an enormous amount of patience, along with most of their ammo, to make their way down to the large solar panel plant in Powhatan, but it was definitely worth the effort to get to the western suburb of Richmond. With the camper filled with flat boxes of panels along with the hardware needed to install and repair them, Alexandria should be up and running well into the future as long as the sun continues to shine on a fairly regular basis.

Aaron glances at Daryl again as the hunter stares quietly through the windshield - or at it, his profile a study in stark despondency. "Another forty miles or so and we can try the walkies again. We may be in range once we hit Stafford. Surely by Dumfries," he adds when Daryl doesn't respond to his attempt at lightening his friend's somber mood. "Either way, we should be home by midnight and then we won't have to worry about everyone worrying about us. Eric is probably cursing me to hell right now for staying gone for so long. God, I miss him."

The morose hunter shifts in his seat but remains silent.

* * *

The road rushes up as the camper eats up the miles at a slow but steady pace along Landora Bridge Road toward Chilesburg. Daryl tries not to think about the eighty miles between him and his family, focusing instead on walking through the gates of Alexandria, feeling ten feet tall as he and Aaron share their load of much needed solar panels.

He imagines knocking on Rick's door and receiving a heartfelt embrace at his return. He smiles internally at the thought and realizes that even if the sheriff doesn't instigate it, he'll probably take the man into his own arms anyway. And of course Carol will have her arms around him the moment he walks into the house, and maybe he won't let go so quickly this time. He can't help but smile outwardly at that thought as his belly drops fearfully in the same instant. Maybe. He just wishes they would get home sooner rather than later, knowing they all must be worried sick about him.

"There's another one."

Aaron's voice breaks into his thoughts and he looks in the direction of his friend's pointed finger stretched out from the steering wheel.

"Wonder what that means," Aaron says intently.

"W for weird, that's what it means," Daryl replies as they roll past a low brick wall surrounding a small cemetery, a large white 'W' decorating the dirty red clay.

"Well yeah, the whole world is pretty weird these days."

"But this place is especially weird. Can't you feel it?" Daryl asks with a squint of his already beady eyes.

"Not really. Looks like any other abandoned town we've driven through."

"Just keep yer eyes open." Daryl thinks of Woodbury and how badly that seemingly safe haven had turned out. _Thank God Rick came back._ Alexandria turned out to be an honest oasis despite the skirmish last month, but Daryl had been very wary of the townspeople until he saw how they had all pulled together after the attack. He has come to trust Aaron and Erik completely and counts on their faith regarding the other residents.

He knows Rick trusts them as well, along with his faith in Kate. He truly is happy for his friend and though he doesn't begrudge the relationship he's found with the pretty dark-haired woman, he really looks forward to walking the perimeter with Rick each day, just like they'd done at the prison.

Funny how he'd felt freer inside the walls of the prison than he does in this open community. Probably because deep down he'd always known that he would end up in jail one day. Honestly, that's where he belonged after all the shit he'd pulled at Merle's orders. So he'd made himself right at home with a mattress on the perch overlooking the cells that boarded his family and settled in behind the walls that were built for degenerates like himself.

If Rick hadn't entrusted him as a valued member of the group in the earlier days, he would have been… well, maybe not dead, but he'd be in a different kind of self-imposed prison for sure, and the thought depresses him even more. God knows he'd never been one to cling to notions of family togetherness - growing up as he did - but all he wants right now is to get back to the others; to Carol with her wry sense of humor, incredible courage and warm friendship, and to Judy and Rick - his little Asskicker and the man he considers his brother.

* * *

After patrolling the block one last time before calling it a night, Rick closes the front door and leans against the dark wood to remove his boots. He watches Kate step over Josh to take her usual seat on the chaise lounge in the darkened room, her face bathed in a soft blue glow from James Cameron's Avatar on the TV screen. Her eyes meet his as he removes his jacket and then absently hangs it on the newel post of the banister. He peers into the empty playpen as he steps over the boys sprawled across the living room floor. "You got her down?"

"Just a minute ago," Kate replies as she moves back into the cushions of the long chair to give him room in front of her. "She fell asleep on me so I just carried her up," she adds, reaching for the baby monitor on the end table to make sure the volume is turned all the way up.

He collapses onto the sofa between her knees and leans back against her chest, grasping onto her arms as they come around to embrace him. He lifts her wrist and presses his mouth to her pulse before rubbing his stubbly chin against her smooth skin.

"Ooh that tickles."

"Do you want me to shave?"

"No, it's very sexy on you. And I like the way it feels on my thighs," she whispers before burying her face in his shoulder shyly.

"Is it as sexy as the Moses beard I had when you first saw me?"

"Mmm… even sexier, if you can believe that."

He laughs softly, enjoying the feel of her arms around him at the end of the day. "Be honest, you were attracted to that beard."

"Well, I have to admit I did feel a strange pull toward that rugged mountain man that walked into the clinic. But I think it was the adorable baby in his arms more than the facial hair," she teases as she caresses his thickening whiskers.

"Well thank God for my daughter then." He smiles with a sigh and settles into her more heavily as he recalls the way Judy was calling for her Uncle Daryl this morning.

As if reading his thoughts as well as his body language, she strokes his chest comfortingly and asks, "Still no word yet, huh?"

"Nothing," he replies dejectedly.

"They'll be back soon, honey. We knew it was going to be a long trip so it doesn't mean anything if they aren't back for a couple more days. Just think of how excited he'll be to see the picture that Judy made for him."

"Oh yeah, he'll be thrilled to see the purple blotch that is supposed to be him," he says sardonically.

"He's going to love that blotch, just wait." She nibbles the top of his ear to lift his spirit.

"I know. I just wish he would get home already." He turns his head to look out the window at the darkness beyond the front porch.

"You know what they say about waiting for a pot to boil. He won't get here any faster if you're staring out the window for him."

"What am I supposed to do, Kate?" he answers woefully with an air of impatience.

"I can think of a nice distraction," she whispers seductively against his ear as she lifts the tie from his chest and caresses his cheek with the soft material.

* * *

After passing the fourth 'W' in as many miles, Aaron is more curious than anxious, unlike his partner who continues to scowl and scrutinize every building, bush and tree they pass.

Heading north on Partlow Road toward Snell, Aaron watches the last remnants of the dying sun dip below the western horizon, leaving a shadowy landscape in its wake. He eases up on the gas pedal as the headlights reveal a sharp bend in the road.

Turning the wheel into the curve, he steers the camper carefully around a cluster of cars taking up much of the right lane. When the road opens up again, he presses down slightly to gain some speed until he sees two figures standing in the street about two hundred feet ahead.

He lets up in a knee-jerk reaction and then continues to proceed slowly with the intention of going around the two walkers. When they are no more than fifty feet away, Aaron steers the vehicle toward the right in order to give them a wide berth. Just as the front tire catches the gravel of the shoulder, he is alarmed to realize that the walkers are standing taller, more erect than they have any business doing. In the instant it takes Aaron to realize that the two figures aren't dead at all, a gunshot splits the night and the camper lurches wildly, the air rushing from the shredded tire as five more figures step out onto the road ahead.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N I apologize for the delay with this installment but the latest chapter is getting close to 4k words so I've decided to cut it in order to get it to you sooner. It's shorter than usual but I think you'll enjoy it just the same. Again – thanks for all the reviews!**

* * *

The camper comes to a stop with a heavy shimmy and shake, its rear tires sitting on the shoulder while the headlights glare at the men moving about in the road; the men with enough weapons to take on a herd.

 _Fuck!_ Daryl leans over to grab the rifle next to his seat but grasps only air in the frantic search. He looks down to see the gun about a foot farther back from where it had been before they'd hit that pothole. Rising from the seat, he quickly looks to the right as the passenger door is pulled open.

"Come on down, boy, or this is gonna get real ugly real quick." The tall, thin man aims a shotgun at Daryl's head as his dark eyes shine with malice under long, greasy brown hair.

Daryl glowers at the man, his eyes fixed on the large _W_ taking pride of place in the center of his forehead. While the dome light of the cab illuminates the grime and grunge covering the bastard's filthy skin and clothes, his nose concludes that these assholes have been on the road for a very long time from the awful aroma invading his nostrils when the man reaches up to grab a fistful of his jacket.

About to make a lunge for his rifle, Daryl stills when the driver's door is flung open and a gunshot echoes through the cab. The hunter recoils defensively before a maelstrom of anger rushes through his bloodstream at the death of his friend.

"The next one won't be a warning shot," a deep voice carries across the cab and Daryl looks up to see Aaron scrambling out of the camper to the pavement.

"Shit! I'm coming, I'm coming," Aaron says quickly as he steps down to the ground and raises his hands in surrender.

Expelling a huge breath of relief, the hunter shrinks back into the seat, the posture of frustrated defeat. The dark-haired man at his door reaches for his sleeve again after letting go in the startling blast of the gunshot. Daryl pulls his arm away rebelliously. "I'm comin' for fuck's sake! Keep yer fuckin' hands offa me!" he barks, his feral soul refusing to let the scumbag force him into complete submission.

The man takes one step backward, giving Daryl room to climb down. He gains the ground and moves to stand next to Aaron in front of the camper, the headlights sweeping past them to shine upon an open field as the captors stand at the edge of the high beams, weapons aimed to kill.

"Now just be still, gentlemen," a stocky man with broad shoulders - and the now familiar _W_ above his brows - says in a very soothing tone at odds with the gravelly texture of his voice. "We're just gonna take a short ride up the road to our little wolf den."

Daryl narrows his eyes at the stocky man on the left, the obvious leader of the derelict bunch as the two men flanking him are standing slightly behind.

"Look, we don't want any trouble. You can have our stuff, just let us go. Please." Aaron pleads, looking at each gang member in turn as if hoping to find a sympathetic ear.

"Look at that nice big forehead, boss. Perfect for carving a letter," a man with stringy blonde hair shouts from the miscreant quartet on the right.

The leader steps forward, keeping his revolver aimed at Daryl's chest. "Just start walking. We've got a couple of trucks just a little ways up. Let's go." He flicks his wrist so the gun wavers between Daryl and the road ahead, indicating the desired direction.

"What about the camper?" another voice asks from the shadows beyond the headlights.

"We'll come back for it tomorrow so we can change the tire in the daylight. Grab the keys Tito," the leader instructs and then steps closer to Daryl. "Let's go."

Daryl turns with catlike reflexes, his large hand grabbing the revolver and twisting his body into the stocky man's chest, knocking him off balance and bringing them both to the asphalt in a fight for possession of the gun. Ignoring the shouts of the angry, panicked men surrounding him, he throws his head back into the leader's face and is rewarded with the sound of cartilage breaking and a painful howl. "We ain't goin' anywhere with y'all!" The man loosens his grip on the revolver but Daryl's hope for escape is short-lived when something slams brutally into his left knee, sending a firestorm of white hot pain through fractured bone and torn ligaments and tendons. _"Fuck!"_

In an agony-induced blind rage, Daryl swings the revolver to his left and fires one round into the night, cursing his aim before a nanosecond of pain invades the back of his skull and darkness envelopes him completely.

* * *

Stretched out on the bed, Kate lies on her stomach in the soft glow of the small lamp on her nightstand, getting lost in the romance of a Karen Robards paperback. A taste of the cool night air ghosts across the backs of her bare legs and goosebumps dimple the band of exposed skin between her pink tee shirt and red panties, Rick's favorite.

She hears his footsteps on the staircase and prays that he's gotten some good news from the tower on his final perimeter check, for his sake. At this late hour, she assumes their friends have stopped somewhere for the night and will continue driving in the morning, hopefully to reach home by tomorrow afternoon. _Please God._

Rick walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him. She watches him place a glass of ice water on his nightstand and turn his head to give her a small smile of hungry appreciation, warming her nether region with his gaze.

She marks her page and closes the book, shifting to her back as he sits on the edge of the bed. "All quiet on the home front?"

"Yeah, too quiet," he replies sadly, pulling his necktie away from his collar.

Kate moves to her knees behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "They've probably stopped somewhere for the night, that's all. You know Aaron hates to travel in the dark."

"I know. I just hate not knowing where they are."

"You know they're somewhere between here and Richmond - I'd say closer to here - and they'll probably drive through the gates tomorrow afternoon with a camper full of all sorts of goodies and in desperate need of a shower," she says lightly, kissing his neck in hopes of relieving the stress she feels in the tension of his body. "Come on. You need sleep, honey."

"I won't be able to sleep."

"Then you can hold me while I sleep," she says, nuzzling into his shoulder.

"Just hold you?" he asks with a suggestive grin. "What about that distraction you mentioned earlier?" He lifts her hands from his chest and brings them to his lips.

"Mmm…, distracting you might be fun." She moves her hands to the tie knotted loosely at his neck, working her fingers through the twists until it unravels completely.

She slips it off of his neck and moves around him to sit on his lap, holding the necktie between them as he folds his arms around her back. "And it's my turn to play this time." She loops the garment around her own neck like a tailor's measuring tape and reaches to open the buttons of his uniform shirt. She frees the top two to reveal a white tee shirt underneath. Before she can release the third button, he leans back, pulling her on top of him and then rolling to pin her beneath, their legs hanging over the edge of the mattress.

"Hey, I'm not done yet." She pushes against his chest halfheartedly as he dips his mouth to her neck.

"You're taking too long," he murmurs before silencing her giggles with his tongue, coaxing her lips to part for his sensuous inquisition.

She answers his kiss with all the passion in her soul, welcoming his ardor as she returns to the buttons with fumbling fingers, determined to complete her quest of getting him naked. Releasing the final one, she pushes his shirt off of his shoulders as far as she can reach.

He breaks the kiss and leans back, breathlessly shrugging out of the uniform. He tosses the shirt onto a chair and then grabs a fistful of white material at his nape, pulling his undershirt over his head to drop unceremoniously onto the floor. He turns back to face her, blue eyes dark and dilated.

Slipping his fingers beneath the tie against her chest, Rick lets his knuckles graze her nipple as he runs his thumb over the silky material. "Maybe we can try something else with this tonight," he says thickly.

"If anyone is getting tied up it's going to be youuu," she moans, her attempt at a stern response failing miserably as her nipple hardens at his touch.

"Could be fun but I had something else in mind." He pulls the tie and she feels the softness slithering against her neck, not unpleasantly, until he's got the entire length in his hand.

"What are you going to do?" she asks softly, her brown eyes huge with anticipation laced with angst.

"Do you trust me?"

She looks up at him tenderly, her heart in her eyes. "With all my heart and soul."

He regards her lovingly for several heartbeats and then pulls her to a sitting position. Leaning in, he brushes her lips lightly. "Thanks for that," he whispers against her mouth before giving her a smile that melts any anxiety she may have had. "Now close your eyes."


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N Sorry I kept you hanging. This is a very long chapter that hopefully makes up for that. Please let me know what you think - reviews really are the fuel that helps keep this fire** **burning. Thank you angelicedg and my dear bluecrush611. Enjoy...**

* * *

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, Kate closes her eyes and takes a valiant breath, inhaling Rick's masculine scent as her fingertips blindly stroke his thigh where it presses against her knee. She hears him swallow audibly and then feels the silky material of the necktie against her skin, caressing her cheekbones and brows and blocking any and all light as it is secured with a knot at the back of her head.

Soft lips brush the tip of her nose and then two large hands are guiding her back to rest her head on the generously stuffed pillow. The mattress shifts and she feels him settle next to her as he stretches out his long legs. A warm palm comes to rest on her taut belly and she extends her hand to search for him. Her knuckles come in contact with the denim of his jeans and she turns her wrist to feel his muscular thigh beneath her fingers.

"Good?" He rubs his hand lightly over her abdomen and up to her chest, massaging the fullness through her thin tee shirt and then honing in on the sensitive bud at its peak.

"Mmhmmm." She arches her back as he gently twists her nipple through the soft cotton.

"Good."

He leaves her breast and she feels a tug at the hem of her shirt, then cool air glimmers across her skin as her nightshirt is pushed up over her belly and chest and slipped over her head. His hands glance off of her hair as he checks the knot on the blindfold again.

She lays her head back on the pillow and echoes his question. "Good?" she asks to the darkness, smiling brightly as she imagines his smirk.

"Great," he murmurs close to her mouth just before his lips cover hers, softly brushing them until he angles his head to deepen the kiss.

She opens her mouth to invite him in while spreading her thighs for the persistent fingers dipping into the waistband of her panties. As he loves her fervidly with his tongue, his hand worships her body and she surrenders herself to him completely.

Digging her nails into his thigh, she raises her hips as two long fingers sink deep into her center. She moans into his mouth as he moves them in and out, back and forth, round and round.

"That's it, baby."

"Mmmm..." He is igniting a firestorm of desire in the crux of her body, his fingers wanton and wonderful until she feels him pull away, leaving her with a feeling of elemental loss. "Nooo…," she groans as his weight shifts on the bed beside her.

"Hang on, honey."

A hand touches her hip and then warm lips press just beneath her belly button, the tip of his tongue drawing lazy circles on her smooth skin. A cool breeze from his pursed lips wafts over her moistened flesh and then several fingertips slip into the waistband of her panties, inching them lower and lower at an achingly slow pace. She points her toes as he finally slips them off of her feet and then she hears the unmistakable sound of a belt buckle and zipper as he shuffles out of his own clothes.

A few moments later, the heat of his body is next to her again and she turns her head toward him. "Rick," she breathes his name like a lifeline.

"I'm right here, sweetheart." His mouth presses against hers for a quick benediction and then cold water dampens her lips, startling her as he runs two wet fingers along the soft contours.

She parts her lips and tastes the salty texture that is Rick as he slips his fingers between her teeth. She sucks lightly, caressing the pads with her tongue until he pulls them back with a soft moan. When they return, it isn't his fingers she feels dripping onto her lips but a freezing cold crescent of ice that makes her flinch at the initial contact. He glides it along her full bottom lip and then circles around the top. "Ooh, cold," she says, swallowing the icy water as it drips into her mouth.

He removes the ice and then his warm lips are heating up her mouth once again. She opens for him immediately, savoring his burning tongue and then gasping against it when a wintry pool settles between her breasts.

She writhes beneath him with a chilly groan as icy tendrils infiltrate her chest. A warm thigh covers hers and she welcomes the weight of it as its course hairs rub deliciously against her smooth skin.

His lips trail a heated path down her neck as the ice glides across one nipple and then the other, bringing her back off the bed in a voluptuous arch. "Oh, God."

He takes a frozen bud into his warm mouth, rolling his tongue around it lovingly and tugging gently with his teeth as a frosty path streams down her abdomen. He blows softly against her breast and her nipple hardens even more, screaming for attention over the glacial pool forming in her navel.

She sucks in her stomach, groaning his name and pulling at the curly hair at his nape as he devours her breast while slowly gliding the ice across her pubic bone, soaking the tight curls that cover her mound. The war between fire and ice rages through her system in an erotic battle for the ultimate gratification.

When two extremely cold fingers slink into her opening, victory is shared as the arctic assault sends a scorching coil of need straight to her core. She cries out and lifts her hips as he creates of whirlwind of sensation inside her body.

He moves his hand to the top of her entrance and skims over the slick folds just inside. "Come on, sweetheart. Let it go. Come for me."

With his mouth vigorously doting on her nipple and his fingers working their magic on her swollen clit, she dives into the darkness and loses herself in a torrent of passion that burns in her center and blossoms to reach every nerve ending in her trembling body.

As the storm begins to subside, she is vaguely aware of him shifting above her. His lips crash into hers hungrily as he settles between her legs. "I love you," he breathes between kisses as she feels the tip of his erection probing her entrance.

"Wait, wait…," she says breathlessly against his mouth as her body continues to quiver in the wake of her orgasm.

"What? What's wrong, Kate?" he says, sounding deeply concerned as he pushes the blindfold up onto her forehead, allowing her to see again.

She opens her eyes and smiles brightly at his handsome face as he hovers above her. "It's your turn now." She reaches back and pulls the necktie from her head.

"What? You want to use that on me now?" he asks with a tremulous smirk but his eyes are shining with humor, and more than a healthy amount of desire.

"Oh yeah," she grins, imagining him at her mercy now. "Fair is fair. And I'll give you the choice – hands or eyes?"

"Christ baby, I'm about to burst here if I don't get inside you." He nudges against her opening as he leans down to kiss her again.

"I promise you will be soon," she teases softly, threading her fingers through his dark hair. "But do you want to see me when you fuck me… or do you want to touch me?" she whispers provocatively against his mouth, smiling as his lust-filled eyes widen at her bold question. "Choice is yours chief."

* * *

From a peaceful darkness, Daryl slowly opens his eyes to a dim glow of firelight that enflames the explosion blooming inside his skull. He moves his hands to his head but they do not rise. He focuses through the pain and realizes that they are bound behind him, a course rope digging into his wrists. He shifts his weight on his butt and feels the length of something solid against his spine. Dazed, he leans his head back until it meets the hard telephone pole that he is secured to, causing a Fourth of July finale to explode behind his eyes.

He groans loudly and hears a hushed murmur directly behind him as Aaron fearfully tells him to keep it down. _Well we're still alive. Ain't that somethin'._ He smothers the groan and the pain in his head is replaced by an angry shriek from his knee before his splitting head takes control of his neurons again.

"Hey, I was really getting worried about you. Are you okay?" Aaron asks quietly from the darkness at his back.

A cool breeze floats over Daryl's skin and the smell of cooked squirrel meat assaults his nostrils, and then his stomach. He swallows the bile that is threatening to fill his mouth and takes a deep breath of the chilly night air while trying to get his knee into a more comfortable position. "I've had better days." He turns his head slightly, slowly, to follow the sound of muted voices that are echoing from a small campfire about thirty feet away on his left. "Where are we?" he asks softly, turning his head at a sharper, more painful angle to speak to his friend.

"Spotsylvania I think. We passed the post office just before they turned into this lot."

Biting back another groan, Daryl looks forward again to see a fleet of cars, trucks and minivans that stretch across a parking lot to cover about two acres until the darkness swallows the fence line to his right.

Turning his attention back to the men at the fire, he counts six forms sitting in lawn chairs in a semicircle on one side, facing two men across the fire whose legs are dangling from the lift gate of a pickup truck. If not for the rope around his hands and the severe pain in his head and knee, it could be a bunch of friends hanging out on a weekend camping trip.

Beyond the fire, he sees a large tow truck parked in front of a small building which he assumes was the office, once upon a time. The full moon shines upon big white letters spelling out _TROY'S USED CARS_ on a large black sign above the shattered plate-glass window.

One figure moves around the fire, poking here and there and sending sparks skyward as Daryl gets another strong whiff of cooked rodent. He listens intently for a minute and picks up a few disjointed words; walkers… trucks… music… wolves. He turns toward Aaron again with a deep wince. "What are they gonna do with us? Why didn't they just kill us already?"

"I don't know but they keep arguing about going back to some place called Del Arno's," Aaron replies.

"Is that where they live? What are they doing in here?"

"No, I think they live here, inside these fences. They've been going in and out of the vans in the first row and I heard a couple of guys arguing over whose turn it is to sleep in the Cadillac tonight," Aaron explains, sounding a bit winded. "I think they have walkers at Del Arno's," he continues in a strong whisper. "Like they are collecting them or something, trying to put together some kind of army. It sounds insane, but I think that's what these guys are really trying to do."

"We gotta get outta here," Daryl murmurs as his vision doubles for a brief moment before refocusing again.

"I'm working on it."

"How? By startin' a fire at my ass? What the fuck are ya doin' back there?" Daryl asks, referring to the brush of hands he feels every so often just below his hips.

"There's a nail or something in the pole. I'm trying to cut the rope with it but it's taking forever."

"I don't think we have forever," Daryl responds dryly.

"I know, but we've got 'til morning. That's when they're planning on moving out. That's if they listen to Hodge anyway - he's the leader. I figure these guys will be sleeping in another couple of hours and I should be done by then."

"Then what?"

"What do you mean _'Then what'_?" Aaron asks, exasperation threading the question. "Then I cut your rope and we run like hell. Toward the back fence where it's darkest. We'll climb over and keep on running."

"You'll run like hell, man. I'm not goin' anywhere," the hunter replies stoically.

"What are you talking about? I'm not leaving you here, Daryl."

"You have to. I can't even walk much less run, I'll only slow you down. And my head is spinnin' like a witch in a fuckin' tornado."

"I'm not leaving you!" Aaron repeats in a furious whisper.

"Listen, get back to Alexandria and bring Rick and the others. I'll probably be dead by the time you get back here but you can at least wipe these scumbags off the earth," Daryl says as the hands at his back cease to move.

"I'm not leaving you so just shut the fuck up."

"You don't have a choice. If you don't go - we both die. Y'all ready to leave Eric alone?"

"Hell no. But don't act like you haven't got anybody waiting for you back home. What do you think Rick will say if I come back without you?"

"The only chance I've got of seein' him again is if you get outta here and bring him back."

"But once they find I'm gone, they're going to take it out on you."

"Don't worry 'bout me, I can handle myself."

"Oh yeah, you handled yourself so well before – and how's that knee doing by the way?!" Aaron asks angrily, sarcasm rearing its ugly head.

"Just keep workin' that rope," Daryl responds tiredly. "And get back as soon as ya can. Alright?" A few moments and several muttered curses later, he feels the rope moving rapidly behind him once again. He sighs deeply, adjusts his knee slightly and closes his eyes, welcoming the darkness to dull the pain coursing through his injured, exhausted body.

* * *

Black. Inky black. Absolute darkness steals his sight to heighten the smell of her. She smells wonderful. Like spring and summer and Easter and Valentines all rolled into one heavenly perfume created just for him.

Rick feels the bed dip to his right and he reaches a hand out to search for her. _There you are_. He curls his fingers over her hip and feels a warm tongue glide slowly across his bottom lip. He opens his mouth to let her in and can't help moaning when she thrusts her tongue between his teeth. He skates his tongue along hers, drinking her in as his left hand weaves into the wavy locks flowing down the back of her head. He holds her in place to cherish her mouth while his free hand slips to the curve of her beautiful bottom. Squeezing ardently, he pulls her toward him with the intention of getting her to straddle him.

She pulls away from him, breaking the kiss. "Oh no, I'm the one in charge now. You just sit back and let me enjoy myself." She presses her lips to the cleft in his chin.

"Come on, baby, I want to enjoy myself too." He reaches for her ass again with a lascivious grin splitting his face, but he doesn't fight it when she grabs his wayward hands, letting her hold them against the mattress above his head.

"You will enjoy this, sheriff. I promise you that," she breathes against his ear before he feels the trail of her tongue down his jaw and the pinch of her fingers twisting his nipple.

His dick twitches impatiently as she sucks and twists and tantalizes his nipples, alternating between the two nubs. He clenches his jaws but keeps his hands obediently against the mattress as she dips her tongue into his navel.

The material covering his eyes prevents him from seeing her now, but from the many nights he'd watched her sleep, memorizing every detail of her exquisite face, he can visualize the delicate curve of her cheek and the soft sensual lips of her perfect mouth as she licks a path down his happy trail.

* ' * ' *

Kate presses her lips to his skin, damp and cool from when he'd lain upon her a minute ago, the ice water slick between their bodies. She turns her head to let her long hair dangle over his belly, caressing his skin with the silky strands as she runs her palm over the hard muscle of his hair-roughened thigh.

She massages downward, pressing into his muscle firmly and then loosening her grip to lightly drag the tips of her fingernails up over his flesh toward his groin.

His erection dances restlessly, begging for attention. She skims her nails across his tightened scrotum and treats his other thigh to the same kindness.

"Fuck, sweetheart. You're killing me," he groans and she is immensely pleased with herself.

"Shhh…" she takes him in her hand, stroking his length slowly for a few leisurely pulls before increasing her speed to drive him mad.

He is incredibly hard and she revels in the opportunity to look at him openly, free to admire all of his glorious masculinity without being watched herself. She presses her lips to his belly once more and then takes him into the warmth of her mouth, humming against his flesh as she circles her tongue over the smooth head of his cock.

"Oh, yeah."

She feels his hands at the back of her head as she moves up and down along his shaft, taking extreme pleasure from the deep moans escaping his chest. A large hand grips her hip, squeezing her tightly as she takes him in again and again.

"Come here, honey. Let me taste you too." His hand slips down to her thigh and tugs her toward him.

More than happy to let him return the favor, Kate lifts a knee over his head to position her center directly above his eager mouth, never breaking rhythm with his cock. She continues her erogenous attack, faltering only slightly through a gasping moan when he pulls her down and slips his tongue inside her hyper-stimulated folds.

He matches her tempo as they love each other with mouth and hands, sucking and stroking, tongue on flesh in a decadent dance that leaves them both panting with the need to please the other. She gives and takes in carnal indulgence until that familiar spark flourishes into a tempest that electrifies her system.

When she straddles his waist to complete their union, she joins their hands as she joins their bodies, holding onto him dearly as she moves along his length. He thrusts upward to meet her downward drive, stretching and filling her more than she ever thought possible. Their hearts beat together as their souls embrace to fuse a little bit further into each other, living and breathing and loving as one.

And as she lies against his chest in a sated, sweating, boneless heap, her exhausted fingers pull the blindfold from his eyes to see the incredible love she feels for him reflecting back in his cerulean gaze.

"So… did you find that… enjoyable?" she asks breathlessly, feeling him begin to soften inside her as his hands caress her back tenderly.

"Very much so," he grins boyishly, one of her favorite sights in the world. "Thank you, ma'am."

She chuckles lightly. "It was my pleasure. Truly."

* ' * ' *

In the darkened room, Rick drowsily kisses the top of Kate's head, the tangy aroma of their lovemaking still lingering in the air around them. "Thanks for the distraction," he whispers to her sleeping form. He sends up a silent prayer for Daryl and Aaron and falls asleep to the steady rhythm of Kate's heart beating against his.

Sixty miles away, Aaron rubs his badly chaffed wrists as he runs stealthily past fourteen rows of automobiles to climb a fence unnoticed, leaving Daryl injured and alone with a pack of dangerous men… who call themselves Wolves.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N Thanks again to my wonderful reviewers. I really appreciate you taking the time to let me know what you think of this story. Now, while you are watching the season five marathon and counting down to the premier of tonight's spin-off, I give you the next installment. Enjoy...**

* * *

A great horned owl hoots at the threatening sound of heavy footsteps crushing twigs and dried leaves in a frantic dash toward her tree at the edge of the small forest behind the used car lot. A figure runs beneath her, oblivious to her calls as he sprints from the woods into the wide but fairly short field. Crickets chirp in the distance as the moon looks on, but the man doesn't notice them either for the heavy breaths that he is forced to take as his blood pumps furiously in his ears and his heart beats madly inside his chest.

Aaron adjusts his grip on the antennae that he'd snapped off of an old Chevy Malibu just before his escape over the back fence. Nervous sweat causes it to slip between his fingers and palm, while a choking terror keeps his grip from letting it fall from his hand completely.

He crosses the field, ignoring a lone walker far off on his right, and rushes into another stretch of woodland. Slowing his pace drastically in the darkness of the forest, he continues about fifty yards before leaning against a thick oak tree to catch his breath. A minute later, breathing a little easier though his heart still pounds, he pushes off from the tree and walks briskly through the woods, listening for footsteps in pursuit or walkers on the prowl.

He moves as fast as the darkness will allow, not necessarily heading in the direction of home, but just trying to get some distance between him and those fucking wolves. He sends up another prayer to Jesus Christ, Buddha, Allah, Jehovah and the Brahman God of Hinduism hoping that at least somebody is listening these days and will keep Daryl safe until he can get back with the others.

As an afterthought, he adds a brief request to get out of the woods and find a car that will get him home quickly.

After forty-five minutes and nearly three miles of twisted ankles, scratched cheeks and the heart-stopping sound of the unknown scurrying among the foliage around him, he steps into a clearing and welcomes the blessed moonlight and the narrow river running down the field to his left.

Sweating despite the chilly night air, he shrugs out of his jacket, ties it around his waist and staggers as quickly as his exhausted body can move toward the desperately needed water. He drinks his fill, relieves himself on a nearby sapling and then drinks some more. With a final splash of cold water on his face, he makes his way up the hill toward a small building, seemingly nestled in the middle of nowhere.

He reaches the parking lot to find two straggling, emaciated walkers; one by the large sign welcoming hikers and history buffs to the Battle of Spotsylvania Court House Visitors Center, the other near a silvery pickup truck parked at a haphazard angle by the entrance to the center itself. Approaching the sign, he wipes his right hand against his jeans and gets a firm grip on the car antenna. Aaron dispatches the wretched male with a swift thrust into its eye and then goes to meet its companion by the truck. This one, a younger male from the look of its long hair and tattered Guns N Roses tee shirt, trips over a forgotten bicycle and falls to the ground in a mass of flailing arms and snarling teeth. Aaron reaches it in two more strides, presses a boot to its neck and drives the antenna deep into its ear, silencing it forever.

Stepping around the twice-dead young man, he reaches for the door handle of the Dodge Ram truck with _Park Ranger_ stenciled on the door next to a large star with the words Orange County arced inside a circle. "Please, please, please…" The door opens with a loud creek in the quiet night and Aaron exhales in relief when the dome light illuminates the interior of the cab, brightening his world. He reaches beneath the seats in a futile search for keys. Coming up empty in the glovebox, center console and visors, he curses himself for not being able to hotwire cars like Eric can - that man has a gift.

He glances through the windshield at the dark building before him. Locating the switch for the headlights, he turns the knob to the high beams and the front of the red brick building lights up in front of him, the beams reaching through the glass doors and large windows to reveal an assortment of shelves, display cases and racks of clothing.

Standing at the double doors, he peers through the glass and bangs three times, rattling the pane and hopefully drawing out anyone inside, living or dead. After counting to sixty and seeing no movement inside, he tugs on the door handle. "Yes," he exclaims in a thankful whisper as the door pulls easily outward. He steps inside the large room and his heart stops when he sees a tall figure standing at the edge of the high beam. He relaxes almost immediately when he realizes that the mannequin displaying a civil war uniform poses no threat.

To the right of the dummy, he spots a rack containing an array of candy bars and small bags of chips. He rips open a bag of expired corn chips and feeds the beast that has been growling inside his stomach for the past three hours. He looks toward the shadows beyond the snacks and sees a refrigerated case filled with bottles of now warm spring water. Grabbing a tote bag depicting three civil war soldiers, Aaron quickly loads it with seven water bottles and a slew of chips and candy.

He scans the walls and walks toward a door in the shadows to the left. Finding it to be a restroom on closer inspection, he scans the opposite wall and sees a metal door next to a cart of magazines and maps. He crosses the room and knocks on the door that says _Employees Only_. He opens it an inch and listens carefully. When silence continues to fill the air, he pushes through the door to find a large office with two shadowed desks and several dark filing cabinets. To the left, the darkness gets thicker down a hallway extending back from the office.

Aaron goes back into the shop and quickly searches the shelves for a souvenir flashlight. Settling for a small Spotsylvania Battlefield penlight from a basket by the cash register, he returns to the office to search for car keys. In the top drawer of the second desk he finds a Ulysses S. Grant key chain with four gold house keys and a bigger silver car key.

After adding a handful of penlights to the tote bag, he sets his haul on the passenger seat of the truck, tosses the broken antenna onto the floor and settles behind the wheel. "Please God," he mutters solemnly as the key fits perfectly into the ignition… and turns. "Yes!" he cries as the engine roars to life, thinking he may actually have a chance of saving Daryl. He glances up to the heavens through the side window and smiles. "I don't know which religion I should convert to - but thank you!"

Looking forward again, his smile fades when he sees the gas gauge resting just above the red line. "Fuck." _Hopefully I won't need more than that._

He makes sure the air conditioner is off to conserve the precious fuel and steers the pickup down a long winding road called Gordon Drive, hoping to hell that he doesn't come out too close to the used car lot.

* * *

Aaron zips his jacket as a brisk wind skims across Route 611 in Lorton. He switches the tote bag to his left shoulder and glances around nervously, for the thousandth time since leaving the truck six miles back in Woodbridge. The moonlight helps to keep a good pace, but the exhaustion and fatigue sinking into his bones makes each step an arduous one. The thought of never seeing Eric again, and the fact that Daryl's life is in his hands, is the driving force that keeps his tired feet moving.

From the position of the full moon, he figures it to be between one and two a.m. and knows he has about twelve miles to go. He just hopes he can get a rescue team back to Daryl before daylight. Coming upon another abandoned car, he takes just a few moments to check for keys and then continues walking when the search is fruitless, like the last eight cars he'd come across.

Hearing a rustling in the trees flanking the road to the right, he pulls the antenna from his back pocket and listens intently. He'd only seen, and killed, three walkers in the last two hours. They'd each been thankfully alone and easy to defeat, but the noise now coming from the woods sounds like more than just one or two. He grips the antenna tightly and pushes his body to move faster.

Aaron takes a few quick steps and then sees them emerge from the trees, and worse – they've seen him. Seven or eight dark figures hobble from the woods about forty feet away. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." He begins to run and then slows to a jog when the sound of an engine reaches his ears. He turns to look behind him, waiting for the approaching vehicle to round the bend that he'd passed a few minutes before. It's hard to tell distance in the echoing of night, but it should be coming up shortly as the road behind him brightens with the coming headlights. Looking back over his shoulder with every other step forward, he prays that whoever is in the vehicle is decent, but he knows the odds are slim since it seems like the majority of survivors on the road now are the nefarious type.

He thinks about running into the woods on the other side of the road but doesn't like the idea of going back into the darkness with a small herd behind him and the likelihood of tripping over a branch in his weakened state. He looks over at the walkers again, about twenty yards from the road now. Making a decision, Aaron turns and faces the direction he had just come, toward the headlights that are getting larger with every beat of his pounding heart. In the universal language that means 'stop', he waves his arms wildly above his head. When the dark sedan slows to a stop about fifteen feet away, he hesitates long enough to register one person in the car, a dark figure behind the steering wheel. Aaron moves quickly to the front passenger door and reaches for the handle as the window descends, leaving a four inch gap at the top.

"Where you headed?" A deep, slightly southern voice drifts through the opening, sizing him up as Aaron stands with a firm grip on the locked door handle, peering into the gloomy interior of the sedan.

"Anywhere out of here. Please mister," he implores, watching the walkers reach the asphalt ten yards behind the car, arms outstretched and jaws working against the dry air. Finally, he hears the click of the door lock disconnecting over the blood pounding in his ears.

Without giving the small herd a second glance, he lifts the handle and rips the door open, throwing himself into the leather seat without grace or dignity, just a sheer will to survive. "Go, go, go!"

The tires squeal as Aaron is thrust back against the seat, the undead left clawing at dust and gravel as the car propels forward. He slips the bag from his shoulder and takes a steadying breath as the herd is lost in the distance. By the dashboard light casting green shadows inside the car, he sees the profile of a dark skinned man with a strong jaw and a high forehead above a flat nose. He seems relaxed in his seat but acutely aware of his surroundings at the same time.

"Thank you. Jesus, I can't thank you enough," he says, still breathing heavy but calming considerably. "I'm Aaron."

The driver turns to him for a moment before looking back to the road ahead. After a lengthy pause, the man says, "I'm Morgan. Morgan Jones."

* * *

The shadows of the elm tree sway gently in the breeze just outside the window of the master bedroom. Rick looks from the ceiling, which he has memorized from the last three sleepless nights, to the window and the shadows beyond, wondering again where the hell his brother is.

He shifts slightly, trying not to disturb Kate as her cheek rests peacefully against his chest as he reaches for the wristwatch on his nightstand. Though it's not quite three a.m., he knows he won't be going back to sleep any time soon and gives in to the urge to take a walk.

He gently kisses the top of Kate's head. "Love you," he whispers in her hair before slipping out from beneath her. He smiles as she mumbles something in the darkness and rolls over to her own pillow.

Dressed in a brown tee shirt and his favorite black jeans, he grabs the walkie from his dresser and shoves it into the pocket of his uniform jacket before quietly stepping out into the night.

On his fourth lap around the sleepy community, Rick turns the corner by the armory and hears the low humming rumble of an engine. A moment later, Sasha's voice breaks into the silent night through the walkie in his pocket. "Headlights coming our way!"

"Copy that!" he responds as he runs toward the entrance, hearing Sasha's crackling voice telling Eric to be ready with the gate.

"Doesn't look like our camper." Sasha's voice sounds over the airwaves again as Rick races down the street.

"Don't open it yet!" Rick yells as he reaches Eric, who's been suffering from insomnia himself with fear for Aaron.

"It's got to be them, Rick." Eric doesn't move the bar securing the locking mechanism, but he doesn't let go of it either.

"It could be anybody," Rick replies, breathing heavily as adrenaline courses through his body. "Open the first panel but no more than a foot. Let's see who gets out of the car before we open the gate."

Rick is grateful for the full moon that illuminates the space in front of the gate, but the growing headlights steal his vision and he nudges Eric to the side behind the solid panel. Stepping to the edge, he peers around the frame and looks through the steel bars, waiting as the car comes to a full stop, the weight of his gun a comfortable presence in his hand. "Come on Daryl" he mutters under his breath.

A moment later the passenger side door opens and Aaron's voice echoes in the stillness of the late hour. "It's me, Aaron! Open up!" he calls out, waving his hands in surrender.

Rick grabs the lock handle and lifts it up out of its secure position. He slides the gate all the way open and then pulls the solid barrier a few more feet to the left. Before he can step through the opening, he is ironically pushed out of the way by the slight and slender Eric.

The young man runs past Rick and throws his arms around his partner in an open display of affection filled with desperate longing and an incredible sense of relief.

Chuckling as he releases a huge breath of relief himself, Rick steps to the driver's side of the vehicle and reaches for the door handle, impatient to see that Daryl is okay as well.

* * *

Inside the car, Morgan stares in disbelief through the dirty windshield. He thinks his eyes are playing tricks on him because the man standing in front of the car looks a hell of a lot like his old friend Rick Grimes. But what are the odds of that.

From the note with his name that he'd found a few weeks back, Rick should be somewhere in DC. He didn't know how long the paper had been sitting inside that church before he had gotten there, but he believed Rick was several weeks ahead of him at least, which would put him in DC already. But he can now see without a doubt, that the man reaching for his door is none other than Sheriff Rick himself. _Holy shit._


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N So many thanks to angelicedg, angie b and my dear bluecrush611 for my lovely reviews. You guys are the best! We're getting down to the wire now with only one more chapter to go after this. I can't believe the short six or seven chapter story I set out to write ended up with sixteen chapters! I hope you've enjoyed them.**

* * *

Reaching for the door handle of the dusty Nissan, Rick's smile vanishes the moment he sees a black man sitting where Daryl ought to be. "What the fuck?"

He pulls open the door, confusion laced with a bit of anger.

"Rick, wait. That's-," Aaron calls out from the other side of the car, pulling away from the death grip that Eric has on his shoulders.

"Morgan?" Rick utters in complete amazement as Aaron echo's the name of his very dear friend. "Morgan!"

In the next instant, the two men are hugging almost as tightly as the reunited lovers. Rick is nearly giddy with joy at seeing Morgan again, especially after the stress of worrying so much during the last few days. "Holy shit it's good to see you, man!" Rick steps back but keeps a hand on Morgan's shoulder. "Hey Daryl, this is my friend Morgan, the guy I told you about," he calls into the open door to reach the backseat where he presumes his brother is still sitting.

"My God, you guys know each other?" Aaron's asks, a stunned expression raising his eyebrows.

"How the hell did you get here?" Rick claps a hand against his friend's shoulder, still grinning from ear to ear.

"I've been following a map that had your name on it. Found it in a church back in Macon. I ran into Aaron with a mess of walkers at his heels and picked him up. Had no idea he'd bring me right to you." Morgan's toothy smile shines brightly in his dark face.

"Unbelievable," Rick mutters, still in shock at seeing his good friend. "Wait, _him_? You mean _them_ ," he corrects and then his smile flattens when Morgan gives him a serious look and the insinuation of the singular word registers. Glancing back into the car, he sees the empty back seat and feels the ground shift beneath his feet. "Where's Daryl?" he asks in a calm, controlled voice that shrouds his true frantic emotions as he looks to Aaron for answers.

Without hesitating the man replies somberly, "The Wolves got him."

"Wolves? He's dead?" Rick takes a numb step backward, away from the agonizing news.

"No, a group of assholes that call themselves 'Wolves'. He was alive when I left him."

Rick releases a deep breath, closing his eyes as the earth shimmies back into place beneath his boots. Opening his eyes, he glares at Aaron, accusing. "Why did you leave him?"

"They cracked his knee, he couldn't walk," Aaron replies quickly. "I was able to cut the rope around my wrists and he made me run for help. I swear I didn't want to leave him, but it was the only way we'd survive. If he's kept his mouth shut, he should still be alive when we get back."

"Fuck!" Rick runs a frustrated hand through his hair and then narrows his eyes at Aaron. Anger bunches his veins and heats his body as he clenches his fists at his sides. "How many are there?"

"Seven I think, maybe eight."

Rick nods his head, wheels turning quickly and gears spinning madly as he formulates a plan of attack. With blue eyes gleaming dangerously, his voice is low and menacing when he asks, "How far?"

"About sixty miles. At a used car lot in Spotsylvania."

"Alright, go get Glenn, Maggie, Michonne and Abraham. Tell them to meet me at the armory. Then go to Reg and Deanna's, fill them in on what's going on."

"Okay, I'll get Tobin too, he can help," Aaron replies before rushing off with Eric following closely.

"What about me, Rick? I'll come too," Sasha offers before Rick can turn to leave.

"Fine, we'll get Rosita to cover the tower," he replies and turns to Morgan.

"What about Kate?" she asks quickly and his face softens when he looks back at her.

He dreads having to wake up Kate to tell her he's leaving but he knows he doesn't have a choice. He just hopes she understands. "I'll stop home on my way to the armory," he responds quietly.

* * *

The seconds tick incredibly slowly as Rick waits for Olivia to open the door to the armory. Her hands jitter the keys nervously and he doesn't know if it's due to the fact that he had shaken her awake - none too gently - in the dead of night, or that he's been breathing down her neck for the past five minutes.

She usually gets tongue-tied around him and Kate says it's because she's got a bit of a crush on him. But if she doesn't get the key in the fucking hole in about two seconds, he's going to do something painful that'll turn those feelings into something with a whole different flavor. "Come on, Olivia."

With only half of a second to spare, the key slides into place and she gives it a quick twist, pushing the door inward with a grateful exhalation of nervous air.

Rick pushes his way past the anxious gatekeeper and hears the front door of the house open, followed by the sound of many hurried feet.

"Rick!" Glenn's voice rings out from down the hall.

"Back here!"

A few moments later, the Asian man steps to the threshold. "We're here." He nods breathlessly.

"All four of you?" Rick asks, picking up a box of shells for his Colt and shoving it into his jacket pocket.

"Yeah, plus Carol." Glenn gives Rick a contrite look of surrender. "I tried to talk her out of it."

Carol steps around Glenn and looks at Rick with a stony expression that tells him she will not back down. He squints his eyes at her briefly before giving her a slight nod, knowing that she is more than capable, and knowing how she feels about Daryl.

"Just be glad it's me and not Carl."

"I am," he replies dryly, knowing she must have heard the argument he'd had with his son on the porch as he was leaving for the armory.

* * *

Rick walks out of the house with a crew of eight behind him, carrying an impressive arsenal with plenty of ammunition. Their faces look as determined as his own, with the exception of Morgan who wished to come only to give them strength in numbers.

He has noticed a significant difference in his friend, one that goes even beyond the complete turnaround of the crazy, suicidal militant man he'd found back in his old neighborhood last year. Now Rick sees a calm, serenely happy, completely centered man who almost seems to shy away from violence. But he trusts that Morgan won't let him down if they do need his help with these so-called wolves, so he welcomes the company.

Coming down the walkway, the lights from the house behind him spill out to the street to cast upon Reg and a scowling Deanna with Kate standing not too far behind them. He ignores the first two, nodding his head slightly at his lover as he turns and heads toward the townhouses where all the cars of Alexandria are kept. "Glenn, you'll follow me with Maggie, Abraham and Sasha. Take the Acura, I know that has a full tank."

"Rick, I can't let you go," Deanna's voice calls from the darkness behind him but he continues to ignore her.

"Aaron, you come with me, Michonne, Morgan and Tobin in one of the minivans. Can you stay awake long enough to get us there?" Rick asks as Deanna tries to keep up with his long, purposeful strides.

"Not a chance," Aaron replies, looking like he's ready to drop any second. "Just get on Route 1 to 208. Head west on 208 and then you can wake me up to find the place."

"Rick, stop!"

The sheriff continues walking, but glances over his shoulder to answer the woman in charge. "We're not leaving him there, Deanna."

"Of course not. The others can go but you must stay here."

He whirls to fix her with a seething glare. "What?!" He stares at her, outraged and slightly confused.

"I forbid you to go." The small but fearless woman moves to stand between him and his destination.

"Forbid me?" he cries, incredulous. "Get out of my way, Deanna," he says darkly.

"Kate, you can't be happy about him leaving like this." She looks past Rick and he knows that Kate is standing behind him.

He turns his head and watches Kate step in front of him to stand next to Deanna. She meets his eyes as Deanna continues her plea.

"Please make him understand the responsibility he has to the people of this community. In matters like this, he must delegate," she says looking between the couple as they gaze at each other.

Rick looks at Kate, already knowing she isn't happy but is supporting him regardless. When he'd told her earlier, she'd hugged him tightly and swallowed the same lump that he'd felt in his own throat before promising that he'd come back to her. She looks at him now, giving him a sad smile but encouraging all the same. He watches her turn to Deanna.

"The people going on this mission are his responsibility too, Deanna. And if we want all of them to come back – including Daryl, then he has to lead them." She looks back at him and nods her head, reassuring. "And he will."

Rick's heart swells with pride and gratitude, reveling in the novelty of having someone behind him one hundred percent. He's never loved her more and he silently vows to move hell and high water to get back to her, with all of his family intact. He walks to Kate, cups her cheeks in his hands and kisses her forehead. "I love you."

"Rick, you're our constable!" Deanna calls as he walks past her with the others falling in step behind him once again. "It's your job to preserve the law and order within these walls."

"Until my family needs me on the other side."

"You're not a general leading an army!"

He stops, relaxes his shoulders and turns to face her with an exasperated sigh. "No, I'm not. I'm just a man trying to take care of his family." He looks down at the shield sewn onto his sleeve and the silver badge clipped to his jacket. "My brother is out there and nothing is going to stop me from going to get him."

He pulls the box of ammo from the deep pocket of his uniform jacket and shrugs out of the coat. He tosses it onto the ground at Deanna's feet, the badge glinting mutinously in the moonlight. "Give it to somebody else. Maybe Eugene can be your guard dog," he sneers, walking away and ignoring Deanna's furious glare burning into the brown tee shirt covering his back.

* * *

Almost two frustratingly long hours later, the moon continues to shine brightly as Rick stands next to Aaron at the back fence of the car lot. He looks at his watch – 4:55 a.m. They'd left the cars nearly a mile back and approached on foot through the trees, killing three walkers along the way. Other than a chorus of crickets in the distance and their own anxious breathing, the night is quiet around them.

Rick looks at the bolt cutters in Glenn's hand. "Let's check the perimeter first before we break in. We've got to see where Daryl is so we don't hit him in the crossfire," he says quietly, speaking with authority despite the low resonance.

"Aaron, you and I will go to the left. Glenn – you and Abraham take the fence on the right and then we'll meet back here."

Crouched at the side fence near the front of the lot, Rick sees three men sitting around a small fire talking quietly in a fairly large open area near the front of the lot. Two rows of cars separate the campfire and the front fence that butts up to the road running through the small town. In the light of the campfire, he sees another guy lying in the bed of a pickup truck, his head resting on a makeshift pillow on the tailgate.

A fifth guy is slouched in a camp chair by the first line of cars at the front fence. His head is tilted back at a sharp angle while his rifle lies dormant across his sleeping thighs.

Aaron points his index finger toward the right and Rick follows the imaginary line with his eyes. "That pole there, by the jeep," Aaron whispers in the dark. "That's where they tied us."

"He's not there now," Rick whispers in reply, scanning the area for any sign of Daryl. "I see five guys, where are the rest of them?"

"They sleep in the cars I think. Those vans in the first row behind the fire," Aaron informs him quietly and then points his finger again, this time aiming straight across to the tow truck in front of the office. "Back there. That might be Daryl on the back of that tow truck."

Rick squints in the darkness to make out a rounded form that doesn't coincide with the sharp lines of the truck. "That's him."

"Let's go tell the others."

"Hang on." Rick takes a few steps up the fence toward the road. He lifts his gun, fitted with a silencer, and aims it through the fence at the man doing a piss-poor job of being on watch. A muffled pop and the man's head shifts on impact.

* * *

Rick finds Glenn and Abraham already back with the others when he and Aaron return to the fence behind the lot. "What did you see?"

"He's tied to the back of a tow truck by that little building," Abraham says.

"Yeah, we thought that was him," Rick says, happy to have a solid confirmation of Daryl's exact location. "So, they had one guy on watch and four guys by the fire..."

"Had?" Glenn asks.

"No one's on watch anymore." Rick gives him a dark look that Glenn doesn't question. "Now we have to get in close so we don't hit Daryl."

"And keep it quiet so we don't attract the herd we saw in that field off of 208," Michonne adds, standing next to Morgan.

"I have an idea." Rick looks at Glenn directly. "We draw them out and Abe, Tobin, Michonne and Sasha will come around behind the office while you and I distract them."

"Distract them how?" Maggie asks, sounding concerned for her husband.

Rick gives Glenn a pointed look. "All we need is some guts."

"Oh shit, why do I think you don't mean the brave kind," Glenn says with a groaning frown.

"It worked once before, I think we can do it again to get us close to those assholes."

* * *

Standing next to one of the walkers they'd killed not far from the fence, Rick grimaces as Carol smears a handful of gore on his tee shirt. "Shit, I don't remember it smelling this bad the last time."

"It was, you were just too desperate to find your family to notice." Glenn replies in a choked voice as Maggie carefully dabs blood around his lips.

"I still am. I think they've just had more time to decompose. Christ it's awful." He groans as Carol wipes her fingers against the stubble on his chin while the others stand a safe distance from the nauseating scene. "At least we don't need as much this time - just enough to make us look like walkers. We don't need to mask our smell, we just need to look like we've eaten recently."

"You do. And how do you know they won't shoot you on sight?" Sasha asks.

"They don't kill walkers, they just trap them and take them somewhere." Aaron says before covering his mouth again to keep from vomiting.

"So what if they decide to shoot him in the leg?" Abraham asks cynically as he watches the proceedings with his arms crossed over the bulk of his chest.

Glenn looks at Rick for an answer to the question, the worried look on his face turning even more troubled.

"Jump," Rick replies straight-faced. He ignores the eye-rolling he receives from more than one person and adds, "Come on, it'll be a piece of cake. Just like old times, right?"

"If I remember correctly, we almost got killed last time," Glenn responds glumly.

"Yeah, but we didn't, and you got to drive away in a really cool car. Maybe you'll find another one here."

"Where do you want me, Rick?" Carol asks as she dabs a finishing touch of dark red at the corner of his mouth.

"Aaron is going to sneak between the cars and use the silencer to take out the men sleeping in the vans. I want you to back him up. You know what to do – nothing fancy, just be quick and be quiet. I think the car windows are down so it should be easy."

"Maggie, you stay back here with Morgan to catch anyone who tries to escape."

"Got it." Maggie replies like a pro.

"Let's just get this over with." Glenn says miserably and bends to pick up the bolt cutters.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N Okay, we are going to continue this journey a little longer than expected. As usual, I was pushing 4k words so I've cut into two chapters, prolonging the finale – I hope you don't mind. Many many thanks to** **angelicedg, angie b and bluecrush611 for your awesome reviews. Please keep them coming!**

* * *

Standing behind a Range Rover about twenty yards from the campfire, Rick tucks a switchblade into his back pocket and peers around the windshield. He watches one man rise from his seat and step closer to the fire with a long stick in his hand. As the invigorated fire crackles with embers rising up through the smoke, two voices drift across the lot, tinged with animosity and gaining strength as the words become loud and harsh.

"This is it." Rick looks at Glenn and places a blood-smeared hand on his shoulder. "Listen, if it looks like they're going to shoot before the others can take them out, we charge them, alright? Just stay low and run straight for 'em. Hopefully they'll be too shocked to react quick enough."

"God, I hope so."

"Let's go, nice and slow now." Rick lets his shoulders drop and tilts his head to an angle as he steps around the truck. Moving sluggishly, he sees Glenn coming up on his right with the same listless posture and shuffling feet. He opens his mouth to slacken his jaw as he drags a crooked boot along the pavement. When Glenn breaks even with him, Rick increases his speed slightly and moves toward the right to keep the younger man somewhat behind him, protecting him. Though his heart is racing with the dire situation, he reigns in the urge to move quickly and forcefully, as he'd done for so many years on the job. He concentrates on keeping his movements fluid and lethargic, praying that he is convincing enough to hold their attention while the others make their way behind the office.

Passing a red Ford Fusion, they step into the dusky orange light of the fire about 25 feet from the arguing men. A small stone is kicked across the asphalt from one of their shoes and gets the attention of a stocky man during a break in the heated exchange.

The man rises swiftly from his chair and takes a few steps toward them as he squares his broad shoulders. "Where did you fuckers come from?"

The tall man with the stick moves to stand next to him. "How the hell did they get in here, Hodge?"

"That asshole must've broken the fence back there. Shit, let's get these lame-brains and then we'll check it out." The man named Hodge reaches into the back of a pickup truck and Rick sees the metal of an axe-head glinting in the firelight. Hodge takes a few more steps toward them. "C'mere you stupid pricks."

The taller man drops his stick and pulls a knife from a sheath at his belt as he follows his leader. The third man, who had been relaxing with his feet resting upon a crate, stands with a crowbar in his hand but doesn't move away from the fire.

 _Thank Christ they aren't using any guns._ Rick notices Abraham coming around the small building behind the men and lifts his hands slightly, curling his fingers into claws and baring his teeth to emulate a hungry walker.

The two men stop their advance and plant their feet, waiting for the walkers to come to them. About ten feet away, Rick dips his left shoulder significantly and reaches back with his right hand, discreetly slipping it into his pocket as he continues the seemingly mindless stagger.

As Hodge lifts the axe higher, Rick looks past the stocky man to watch his loser buddy fall to the ground, his hands clawing at the bloody gash in his throat until Abe plunges the knife into his skull.

When the crowbar hits the aluminum of a lawn chair, Hodge and his partner turn around a moment before Michonne's katana slices through the neck of the tall man, severing his head from his body completely.

"What the fuck?!" Hodge exclaims as Sasha advances on him. The man wields the axe in a death-grip, getting the upper hand on her.

Rick rushes forward and grabs the axe handle with his left hand, twisting the man backward and driving his knife into his evil heart before he hits the ground. After stabbing him again to destroy the brain, Rick looks up to see Glenn standing by the pickup truck with the sleeping gang member. A hesitant hand holds a sharp knife above the figure as loud obnoxious snores drift out of the truck bed. "Glenn, wait!" Rick calls quietly but firmly. The Asian man looks up with a flicker of relief softening his features and lowers the knife to his side at the sign of the sheriff's outward palm.

Rick turns to Sasha with Michonne and Tobin right behind her. He meets each of their eyes as they wait for a command. "Go help Aaron."

* * *

Carol wipes her hand on her jeans and slips her fingers back into the handle of the knuckle knife. Staying close to Aaron, she moves stealthily between rows and rows of automobiles until he slows down just two rows back from the chairs and campfire.

He sidles up to a dark Dodge Caravan in the front row and leans close to the large back window. Carol looks past Aaron to see Abraham closing in on a man standing by the fire as Rick and Glenn shuffle into their camp, capturing their attention. _Wow_. If she didn't know it was them, she would believe they really were of the undead. She shrugs against the sudden chill crawling along her spine and watches Aaron step to the front passenger window of the van, which is blessedly open to the night air. He lifts the gun and pulls the trigger, quietly ending the life of the man inside.

She follows him around to a Ford Windstar, looking from side to side to make sure nobody surprises them. After Aaron kills the passenger, she spots Michonne leading Tobin and Sasha toward the line of cars.

When they come up empty on the third and fourth vans in the front row, Aaron quietly tells the others to check the vans at the other end of the line.

As they all spread out, Carol peers into a Honda Odyssey in the third row while Michonne checks an old Toyota Sienna in the second. Finding the Honda empty, she hustles over to another Windstar as she watches Michonne move past a sleek Cadillac to investigate the next van in her row.

Carol squints into the darkness of the Ford as an owl hoots in the distance. Focusing on the contour of the seats for the outline of a person, she is startled to hear a heavy click and metallic screech as the front passenger door of the Cadillac opens up.

She watches as a fairly short man with long stringy hair steps out of the car, gaining the attention of all the searchers, including Aaron who turns back from the SUV in front of the Caddy.

"Fuck's goin' on?" the man says, rubbing his eyes sleepily before standing a little straighter, suddenly alert. "Hey, it's you! Hodge!"

The man yells for his leader and Carol races forward, beating Michonne to the opened door. Without hesitating, she jabs her knife into the base of his skull, leaving it imbedded there when it doesn't come out easily. Getting to Daryl is the only thing she can focus on now that the bad guys are all gone and she abandons her knife to rush to the tow truck.

* * *

Standing at the tailgate of the burgundy Ford 150, Rick notices all the beer cans littered about the sleeping man's feet. This could make it easier, or not - if the bastard is too far gone to give him what he wants. Stretched out on his back with his hands resting on his thick belly, the big man's chest rises and falls beneath a blue flannel shirt as snores continue to float from his open mouth.

Rick looks at Glenn on his right and then to Abe on his left. "Alright, hold his arms." When they each grab a flannel-clad arm and hold it out from his body to form a cross, the man's eyes flutter open.

"Huh?" The man begins to turn his head toward his right captured hand but Rick grabs his chin and pulls it back, exposing his throat with the severity of the angle.

The sheriff leans forward to meet the man's eyes and hears a deep moan emanating from his thick chest. "You know you're fucked, right? How badly you're fucked will be up to you." Rick holds the point of his knife close to the man's eye and turns it slowly so it catches the glow of the firelight. "See this knife? It'll be in your throat if you try and bullshit me. Now tell me how many are in your group?" He eases up on his chin to let the man speak.

"Fuck you."

"That many, huh?" Rick twists the tip of the blade against the man's neck, just below his adams apple. "One more chance before that cut gets deeper. I'm not going to kill you, I just want answers." The man groans as a thin stream of blood trickles down his neck. "How many?" Rick growls, losing his patience.

"You won't kill me?" the man pleads, slurring his words slightly.

"I promise I won't kill you. If you're honest with me." Rick replies as someone yells for Hodge from the fleet of cars on the other side of the fire.

"Eight. Only eight." He says quickly. "Please mister, I didn't do nothin'."

Rick glances at the shadowy figure slumped in the back of the tow truck. "The hell you didn't." He nicks the base of the man's neck to form a second rivulet of blood.

"Fuck! Quit it! You said-,"

Rick presses up on the man's chin, silencing him as he increases the uncomfortable angle even more. "I know what I said." He gives Abraham a look and takes a step back. Walking away, he hears a strangled curse just before the man drowns in a sea of blood. "Told you I wasn't gonna kill you," he mutters under his breath as he quickens his pace toward the tow truck.

Nearing the truck, Rick sees Carol climbing up beside Daryl, his hands hanging limp and useless from his shackled wrists which are tied around a thick bar attached to the steel boom.

"Carol?" Daryl's head swivels but he doesn't seem to have the strength to hold it up. Rick curses the man in the pickup, wanting to go back and kill the asshole himself.

"Yeah, it's me, sweetie," she tells him and Rick hears a soft sniffle in the quiet night.

As Carol stands to check the binding on Daryl's wrists, Rick steps closer to examine the dark bruises covering his friend's swollen cheekbones. He reaches out to touch his jaw and Daryl jerks his head up, recoiling in fear.

"Walker!"

Rick pulls his hand back quickly and bends lower so the injured man can see his face. "Woah, it's me, Daryl. It's me."

"It's Rick, honey. It's alright." Carol interjects as she kneels down beside Daryl, rubbing his straining bicep.

"Rick?" he slurs through split puffy lips and Rick thinks he's smiling but his battered face distorts the image.

"Yeah it's me, man," Rick assures his friend, feeling terrible for scaring him when he's already in such a bad way.

Daryl lifts his head a little more. "Shit, you look worse than I feel."

"You should've seen me the first time I had to disguise myself like this," he replies sardonically. "Listen, we're gonna get you out of here," he says and looks over at Carol.

"I need your knife," she states when she meets his eyes. "I left mine back there and they've bound him with a thick rope."

Rick turns to look for Michonne and finds his entire crew already gathered behind him. _They did it. And they're all alive, thank God._ He searches the faces of his family until he finds his favorite dreadlocked warrior. "Michonne, get up here with that blade of yours."

When Daryl finally gets to lower his arms, Rick hears a deep groan despite the hunter's best effort to keep it inside as the blood rushes painfully back into his limbs. Carol must have heard it too because she rubs one arm vigorously as he moves closer to the edge to jump down.

Rick leans against the truck next to Daryl's good right knee. "Easy now. Just lean on me." He takes his brother's weight as Daryl wraps an arm around his shoulder and shimmies off the truck. Slipping his arm around his back, Rick sees Aaron step beneath Daryl's other arm as the hunter tries to stand on his one good leg. Daryl lets out another groan as his head falls forward, coming to rest on Rick's strong shoulder. "Come on, let's get you home."


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N Well I hope you guys have enjoyed reading this little action-packed smutfest as much as I've enjoyed writing it. Huge hugs to bluecrush611 for being the best unofficial beta reader and convincing me that my writing doesn't suck (no words for what you have come to mean to me - I Love You, Over and Out!),and to angie b and angelicedg for all of your wonderful reviews and for sticking with me on this awesome journey.**

 **Til we meet again in Rick's zombie apocalypse – I hope you enjoy the finale…**

* * *

Kate crosses the platform of the tower and stands in front of the window facing east toward Broad Street. The light blue sky is streaked with thin clouds as the early morning sun rises above the treetops. The tail of Rick's dark green plaid flannel shirt sways in the breeze against her jean-clad thighs as she turns to pace back to the other window a few moments later.

Gazing out toward the road leading up to the gate at the southern point, she pushes the sleeves of her white thermal shirt against the folded cuffs of the oversized flannel, exposing her forearms to the morning air. "Where are they?" she murmurs, restlessly pulling both sleeves down to her knuckles and then up a few inches to rest just above her wrists.

"I wish I could tell you," Rosita replies to the rhetorical question.

Kate steps to the small table in the corner of the lookout and picks up the walkie talkie… again. Bringing it to her mouth, she presses the button. "Rick, can you hear me? Anyone? Please answer me. Please come in," she pleads, the last words whispered reverently.

Hugging her arms tightly across her chest, she turns toward the stairs at the sound of approaching footsteps. Carl reaches the platform and she gives him a wilting smile. "Hi sweetheart."

"Any word yet?" he asks, his teenage voice cracking with a squawk as he tries to hide his own anxiety.

Swallowing a reply, Kate just shakes her head slowly as her smile falters completely.

"You know they couldn't drive fast in the dark," he says and she nods at the earnest expression on his young face. "And they may have had to clear some roads to get there, which can take a lot of time."

"Uh huh," she agrees, grateful for his effort to cheer her up, but she knows he's trying to convince himself as much as he is her. "I'm sure that's all it is. How 'bout a game of I Spy while we wait?" She smiles for his benefit and this time it almost reaches her eyes.

For fifteen minutes, the three sentinels seek and find objects of various sizes, shapes and colors, but all located in the eastern or southern facing windows and never far from the two main roads leading up to the walled community. Looking for something gray that Rosita has chosen – and sworn that it isn't one specific roof shingle like Carl had selected on his turn, Kate peers over the hedges running along Wells Street and jumps when the walkie suddenly crackles against her palm.

Through a river of static, she hears Rick's voice calling to Rosita, informing the woman on watch that they're almost home.

Kate lifts the walkie to her mouth as a torrent of emotions tightens her chest. "Rick! Honey, are you okay? Please tell me you're okay!" She releases the button and waits for a reply as a band of overwhelming joy clogs her throat.

"Hey baby, I'm fine. We're all okay," she hears a moment later as she swallows the lump.

"Oh thank God," she cries pressing the walkie to her forehead, bringing him close to her the only way she can. "Thank you thank you thank you," she whispers quietly as tears build heavily behind her eyes.

"Honey, are you there?"

When his voice echo's against her forehead, she brings the device down to the level of her chin and swiftly presses the button with her thumb. "I'm here, Rick. I'm here," she says quickly into the speaker. "It's just so good to hear your voice." Her own voice breaks on the final words, leaving the sentence to drift away on a sharp squeak as a sob of indescribable relief escapes her chest.

"I know, sweetheart," he says, his voice full of compassion. After an extensive pause in which she envisions him looking up at the same sunrise she is facing, he continues, "Listen to me Kate, we'll be home in about twenty minutes. Tell Peter to be ready at the clinic - Daryl's hurt pretty bad."

Kate sniffles softly to clear her head and presses the button again. "Okay, I'll go find him." She looks up when Carl's slim form steps into her view. She meets his blue-gray eyes and sees tremendous relief shining inside the sharper edge of concern that she knows he must feel for Daryl.

They stare at each other wordlessly for several heartbeats before she smiles numbly through her tears. "He's coming home." Pulling him into her arms as if he were her own small child, she hears a very soft _'Thank God'_ against her shoulder.

* * *

Rick drives through the gate with a wave to Eric as he steers the Acura straight to the clinic. "We made it, buddy. We're home." He looks at the man reclined all the way back in the passenger seat. "How's he doing, Carol?" he asks when Daryl remains silent.

"Sleeping again," she replies with concern, leaning forward from the back seat to stroke Daryl's hair tenderly.

"We've got to get him inside." Rick shifts the car into park and looks out his window to see Carl, Kate and Joshua coming out of the clinic and rushing toward him.

"Go on, Rick. I'll get Daryl," Morgan offers from the seat next to Carol.

Stepping out of the car, Rick spreads his arms to enfold his family. Carl presses his lanky body against him, nearly as tightly as Kate clings to him as she buries her face into his neck. He feels Carl step back and then Josh is hugging his ribs, pressing his cheek against the short hairs of his bare chest.

Rick is touched to see such a strong display of emotion from Joshua and realizes that the boy's expression matches his own as his returns the hug. Josh has become his family as much as his own two children. He kisses the top of the boy's head then leans back to look at Kate. He presses his lips to hers, letting them linger for a moment as her fingers dig into is bare shoulder. "Hi," he says softly.

"Hi." She smiles as tears shimmer in her eyes.

"Judith?"

"Tara's got her at the house," Kate replies before giving him a concerned look. "Where's your shirt, honey? And you've got blood on your chin. Are you hurt?"

"Not at all, it was just part of a disguise." He wishes he could have cleaned his chin better before seeing Kate, but without any soap, he and Glenn had to make due with just water. "I'll tell you about it later, let's get Daryl inside." He releases his hold on them and moves to help get Daryl out of the car.

Reaching the passenger side, Morgan's soothing voice is almost drowned out by the fevered curses stuttered inside the vehicle as the black man tries to stir Daryl enough to sit forward.

Five minutes later, Rick watches Kate move fluently around the hospital bed as they prep for surgery on the shattered knee. Standing at the sink set in the small kitchen island, he can't take his eyes off of her as he rubs a wet soapy cloth over his chin.

He'd told her once, lying in each others arms in the dying night, that what he loved most about her was the way she could laugh and cry in a single breath while watching a sappy romantic tearjerker. Though he'd said it lightly, earning a playful swat for his admission, he'd been somewhat truthful; he absolutely loved watching her get lost in a favorite movie. But watching her work tirelessly with Peter, despite her own exhaustion from a long sleepless night, he knows it is so much more. As she labors to save his brother from becoming a cripple, Rick knows that what he really loves is her selfless grace and the strength she possesses to be the anchor in the center of his stormy life.

He watches her work from the barstool at the island until Peter announces that Daryl should get full use of his knee in time; a lot of time and a lot of therapy, which they all know won't make the hunter happy.

Rising from his seat, Rick gives Carol a warm smile as she looks up at him from an olive green chair not far from the foot of the bed. He gives her shoulder an affectionate squeeze as she yawns with a chuckle and wipes a knuckle under the corner of her eye. "I'm gonna go check on Judy," he tells her softly as he hears Peter asks Kate for another instrument.

"Grab a shirt while you're there," Carol whispers back, patting his hand against her shoulder.

"Yeah, that too," he replies, raising his eyebrows jovially before slipping quietly out of the building.

* * *

After checking in with Tara and getting a big hug from Judy, Rick heads back to the clinic, buttoning up a beige chambray shirt as he walks up the street, waving to a few neighbors on the way. He fastens the last button and looks up to see Deanna coming down the block from her townhouse, holding his constable's jacket. His good mood turns sour and he can't help the scowl that transforms his smile.

She reaches the clinic first and stands in the walkway leading up to the porch, waiting for him. He wishes he could just ignore her, just continue walking past her up to the porch, but he stops. Putting his hands on his hips, he tilts his head slightly and sighs, waiting for her to speak, to chastise him some more.

"I heard the others stayed behind for the camper," she says with an expression that he can't quite read.

"Yes," he answers defensively. "It wasn't far from Daryl and we need those supplies, including the camper itself. They'll be here any minute."

Before she can respond, the sound of the gate opening rumbles through the quiet streets and they both turn to see the minivan pull in, followed by the RV.

He looks at Deanna as the vehicles approach the clinic but her eyes never waver from the lead car. _She's waiting to see that everyone is accounted for._ Slightly affronted, he crosses his arms over his chest and patiently watches as Glenn, Maggie, and Michonne climb out of the van.

The domineering woman gives the trio a brief nod before turning her attention to the camper behind them. When the last of the crew steps out of the Sunseeker, Deanna releases a heavy sigh and finally meets his eyes.

"Told you," Rick says with a bitter smirk and steps around her on the walkway.

"Rick, wait," Deanna calls and he stops, but doesn't turn around. "I'm sorry if I was being a little obtuse earlier. I was only looking out for this community. But I know that you were too."

He turns to face her and finds his jacket dangling from the end of her outstretched arm. "Please, take this back," she asks as he hears the door of the clinic opening behind him. "You're our constable, even if that job takes you outside of these walls."

He glances toward the camper as Tara and Carl, with Judy in his arms, joins the rest of his family in the street. They watch him, waiting for a decision that will affect their lives, for better or for worse he cannot be sure.

Looking back at Deanna, he scrutinizes her expression. "Would you be asking me to wear that if we didn't all make it home?"

"Yes," she answers immediately, leaving no room for doubt to dilute her sincerity.

Sensing a presence at his side, _her_ presence, he turns to see Kate smiling up at him with Josh and Carol a few steps behind. He looks out at all the faces before him; all of his family members and many new friends who've come out to gather in the street in front of the clinic. He meets their eyes and one by one they nod in turn, silently asking him to resume the role he was born to play.

Looking back at Kate, he can't help but smile at her as she nods her head vigorously. _Yes._

Turning back to Deanna, he reaches out and takes the dark jacket from her hand.

He slips one arm into it and then turns slightly as Kate lifts the other sleeve for him to shrug into. Settling it firmly on his broad shoulders, he has to admit that it feels really good - he'd always liked the way it made him feel civilized in this fucked up world.

With a round of cheers and friendly catcalls from the street, he pulls Kate into his arms and hugs her tightly.

"Welcome home," she says with a kiss against his jaw as she strokes the back of his head.

He leans back to catch her eyes. "I guess there's only one thing left to do now."

"What's that, sheriff?" she asks, gazing up at him adoringly as her hands move to rest against his chest, gripping the edges of his reacquired jacket.

"Change your name to Grimes." He looks at her questioningly, his bright blue eyes slightly nervous but very hopeful.

A flicker of surprise widens her eyes and he holds his breath as the implication sinks in. A moment later, his heart starts beating again when she gives him an extraordinary smile.

"Nothing would make me happier." She melts into his embrace and he hugs her fiercely until she pulls back to look up at him with the warmest brown eyes he'd ever seen. "I love you, Rick."

He cradles her jaws in his large hands, gliding his thumbs across her cheeks tenderly. "I love you too, Kate." When his lips meet hers with the lightest of touches, her undying love seeps in to fill the last thin fissures of his fractured soul.

~ The End ~


End file.
